Here We Go Again
by FeastofDeath
Summary: Losing his brother to the trials in closing the Gates of Hell, has taken its toll on Dean Winchester. With nothing left to live for, a certain Prophet-slash-writer thought to be long dead, makes him an offer. Dean opens his eyes to the night he made Sam leave Stanford to find their dad, only this time, instead of waking his brother, Dean drives off into the night by himself.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **_Here we go again._  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Losing his brother to the trials in closing the Gates of Hell, has taken its toll on Dean Winchester. With nothing left to live for, a certain Prophet-slash-writer thought to be long dead, makes him an offer. Dean opens his eyes to the night he made Sam leave Stanford to find their dad, only this time, instead of waking his brother, Dean drives off into the night by himself. Years later...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

He didn't know if this was some sort of cosmic joke, but for some reason, someone somewhere out there must be finding this all very funny, because for one reason or another, _he was here again._ Here in the last place he wanted to be, by a dying Sam's bedside.

The first time it happened was such a long time ago. He barely remembered it, having repressed it with the other fucked up things that happened in his life. The difference between now and then though, was that the Sam back then was already dead. Taken by heaven or some shit. While this one was on its way, or worse.

He remembered crying back then, wishing and praying to someone, _anyone _up there to _please, give him at least this. Please give me my little brother back._ Back then, a little part of him still believed that there may be a God and maybe, _just maybe_, he'd be listening to one lost soul calling for his help.

Now there was no tears, no kicking, no yelling, no struggling like fuck. Now, he knew that no matter how much he screamed how _unfair _it was, how they didn't deserve this, _least of all his brother_, no one would hear him. So there was no point. And goddamn, he felt tired all over again. A bone-age weariness that has become a permanent ache to him, like the hole in his chest that would never close up.

He feels empty, numb.

He was as powerless back then as he is now. And later, he'd probably end up doing something that would cause more harm than good to this already hell-hole of a world.

All to save his little brother.

All to keep at least one person important to him.

God, how awful of a human being was he? He can't even call himself a hero, no matter how much he tried to convince himself he was doing more good than harm. The heroes in the movies were always putting their asses in the line for the sake of the whole freaking universe. He wished he had at least a quarter of that selflessness in him and maybe then he'd get all that sunset and rainbow happy ending all heroes eventually got.

"You should hear me right now, Sammy." Dean laughed tiredly, rubbing at his eyes. "I'm bitching like a girl here. Even though out of the two us you're the one with the Rapunzel hair."

No response, only the eerie beeping of the heart monitor echoed throughout the room. The hunter paused in his actions, choosing instead to bury his face into his shaking hands.

"God, why do we have to go through this _again_, Sam?" He said in such a broken voice, that if Sam was awake, he'd be worrying over Dean despite the fact that he was the one on the bed, hooked up to the machines like some eerie puppet. "Why do I have to lose you _again_? Why can't we be like- Every. Other. Fucking. _Normal_ brothers out there who don't die every other year?"

He slumped onto the bed, grabbed Sam's cold, unresponsive hand in his and his shoulders trembled as he said, "What do I have to do? What more can I give? _Is there even anything left to give up_?" He almost shouted but instead his voice dropped into a whisper, "Dad's gone, mom's gone, the family we somehow managed to make with Ellen, Jo, and Bobby all burned to ashes and Cas…" He choked. "Cas is _nowhere_ to be found. I only have you left… but even I can't have that."

"What did we do that was so _horrible_ that we deserved this?" The oldest Winchester shouted, eyes burning as he gritted his teeth and gripped Sam's cold hand.

And like an alarm that spelled his doom, the heart monitor on Sam's bedside let out one terrifying-

_BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP_

Doctors rushed in, nurses pushing his paralyzed body out of the room, shoving him to the floor with brusque apologies. He heard yelling and words and barely discernible instructions before it all became white noise a few minutes (_hours? days?_) later when a doctor came out and shook his head as though he was just another normal mourning family member that needed to be told the bad news.

And if Dean didn't think that the dusty remains of his heart could possibly break any further…

Well, Fate had always liked to prove him wrong the hard way. Only this time, it was by taking away the one person Dean had given everything up for.

* * *

><p>"Dean." He didn't know how long had passed. He didn't know what happened after the doctor said, <em>'It's too late. He's gone.'<em> to him like it was a fucking mantra he said several times a day. He couldn't remember if he punched the living daylights out of him or crawled to a corner and made himself as small as possible or maybe even both. He didn't even remember having gone back to the bunker, but then again, the unexpected presence of Garth may have had something to do with that.

But he did remember a few things. He remembered worry and words that didn't register. He remembered yelling, it was Kevin who yelled mostly because he was a brave little shit like that, and small bony hands on his shoulder telling him that everything was not okay but it will eventually be.

But no, without Sam it was never going to be okay. The whole world could go tumbling into the sun for all he cared and he wouldn't lift a finger to help, because after _all he had done_, the fucking world took Sam away from him and decided to keep turning.

Let the world end. God, he could care less.

"You can't mean that." Oh, so he said that out loud, did he? Well, what do _you_ fucking know? "Dean, the whole world can't just stop turning because one person dies."

"Oh yeah?" Dean snapped, facing whoever was talking. "You think Sam's the only one? How about the rest of my family that died, huh? What about my mom who just wanted an out? My dad who became a hunter and dragged us into this shit? And Bobby, Ellen, Jo? What about them? What about losing everyone else I cared about? You don't think that after all I've been through, I deserve to at least think the world should _fucking_ end _right now_ and I wouldn't-"

But Dean stopped yelling. He stopped ranting in blind rage and let his eyes adjust instead to the person he was seeing right in front of him, frowning that familiar bitch frown.

"Sam." He exhaled. His shoulders tensed and he didn't dare reach out. Instead he let out a harsh laugh. "Oh God, _fucking finally_! I'm dying too, aren't I? Took your time, Death!" He yelled to his other side, which he noticed was the familiar scenery of the Grand Canyon.

Huh, look at that, they were back in the Impala, like the old times.

"You're not dying." Sam shook his head and Dean snapped his eyes back to his brother's

"What?" He sounded scandalized, "Why the hell not? I don't even remember the last time I ate. I should be starving to death somewhere or something. Or at least drinking myself to a heart attack." He argued.

His little brother gave him a sad searching look that reminded him of the Djinn Sam that convinced him to stay in that nearly perfect dream world. Huh, maybe he got hit by a djinn again. Well, he's not complaining. Suck him dry, djinn, go ahead. "Why are you so eager to die, Dean?"

The older of the two scoffed, "Are you kidding me? After all we've been through, you ask _that_? Gee, I don't know Sammy? I guess, maybe it's because I've had enough? Maybe because you left me behind like Mom, Dad, and Bobby, and there's just no point in fighting for a world that's so determined to make our lives a living hell hole?"

The younger Winchester frowned, "So you'd leave Kevin and Garth behind, is that it?"

Red colored Dean's sight and he turned to his brother, grabbing him by the collar, "Don't you _dare_ turn shit on me like that. Don't you_ dare_ accuse me of leaving people behind because from the very start I've always done _everything _I can to get back to _your_ side! I spent a year in purgatory, running my ass off, thinking of seeing you again. I _left_ Lisa and Ben to go after you! I'm not the one who turned his phone off for a year and royally fucked up Kevin! So don't you bullshit me and push that guilt crap on my plate, because I'm fucking tired of explaining myself to you!"

He expected Sam to bitch face him or punch him or even roll his eyes in annoyance but the younger of the two just looked at his older brother sadly. The fact that his brother wasn't even arguing back made him loosen his hold before eventually letting go. Even raging, which was his automatic get go whenever he got hurt, tired him out.

"I just want you back, Sam." Dean admitted his first goddamn truth in awhile. His voice was soft, eyes drooping tiredly, "And hell, I tried summoning a demon, an angel, and a fuck load of monsters after they said you were dead. But they all told me the same thing, and that was that they _can't _anymore. Knowing you, you'd have made a deal with a reaper not to be brought back." He laughed brokenly, "You fucking smartass."

Sam said nothing and somehow, to fill the silence Dean kept going.

"You mean the world to me and I'd give up anything and everything to bring you back." The older brother said helplessly, "But if I can't do that, then to hell with it Sammy, I'll follow right after you. You sit your sissy ass there in heaven and wait for me because I'll crawl out of hell if I have to, just to get back to you."

"You don't have to, you know." Sam finally replied, "You can just go on living or quit hunting, find someone, have a family."

"Like you and that Amelia chick?" The hunter laughed harshly, "Sorry, bro, but newsflash- too many demons, angels, and monsters want me dead. Whoever it is I'll have the misfortune of falling in love with would end up dead… or worse." He thought about Lisa and Ben and pursed his lips. "Yeah, the whole apple pie life has been off the plate for a long time. It had never been an option and I was too blind and naive to understand that."

"Dean…"

"What Sammy? You trying to convince me otherwise? Pretend everything is rainbows and unicorns?" Dean huffed out before he rubbed at his eyes, "Well, goddamnit it's not! It's not…" He leaned forward, resting his head on the Impala's wheel. "I'm just tired of everything, Sam."

There was a beat of silence before, "I'm not Sam."

The hunter jumped in his seat and turned, eyes wide. "What?"

"I'm not Sam." Sam- no, the look-alike-whatever-it-was said simply.

"The hell-" His automatic response was to reach into his jacket and take out his gun but of course it wasn't there! Instead he glared at the whatever it was. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Easy." The person held up his hands and his gigantor of a brother began to shrink down to a familiar looking man, with a moustache and writer-crazed eyes, a prophet he thought long dead.

"Hey, Dean." Chuck said sheepishly, clearing his throat, "Long time no see?"

Of course, Dean's automatic response to that would be a sucker punch to the face.

"Ow!" Chuck said as he scrambled back, his back hitting the Impala's door. "Seriously? After _Swan Song_ this is how you greet me?"

"After _what_?"

"Uh, I was referring to the last book I wrote, you know… _Swan Song_ where you went to Lisa's and tried to live a- Dean!" Chuck choked as he was grabbed by the collar again. "Calm down!"

"I am not calming down!" The oldest Winchester yelled. "What are you? A shifter? A ghoul? A demon? An angel with a sick sense of humor?"

"None of the above!" The write panicked. "I'm Chuck!'

"Prove it!" Dean bit out and Chuck rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers.

Familiar items appeared on his lap and Dean lets go in shock. Chuck holds out a plastic bottle with a rosary inside and drinks it with a frown. "Not a demon." He pursed his lips as he spilled borax on his arm, "Or a Leviathan." He picked up the sharp silver and an angel's knife and gave Dean a face. "Do I have to?"

Dean gives him an 'are-you-crazy-just-do-it-or-I'll-sock-you' look.

Chuck sliced his arm with both, "Not a shifter _or _an angel." He winced then snapped his finger again. The objects, including his recent injury, vanished. "Whew, how do you guys deal with that? It hurts."

Dean gave him a glare, "I still don't buy it. Snapping your fingers and things suddenly appear like magic? You may not be a shifter or a demon, but angels can do the crap you do. Besides, how am I sure you're telling the truth when _clearly _you're the one controlling this…" He gestured violently, "…dream or whatever!"

Chuck sighed, "I'd tell you to trust me but after writing a hundred and four books about your life, I know that's too much to ask." He said, "So instead, I'm going to do this." He snapped his fingers again. The view of the Grand Canyon outside vanished. Dean blinked in shock as he found his Impala parked in front of a familiar old house in Lawrence, Kansas.

He blindly reached out for the car door and got out, eyes looking at the familiar lawn and simple two-story house of his childhood. "This is…"

"Lawrence, Kansas… 1983." Chuck had come out of the car, his hand shielding his eyes form the afternoon sun. "Six months after Sam is born." He gave Dean an unreadable look, "Tonight is the night Azazel comes into his nursery and kills your mother. The night your whole life changes."

Dean's grip on the car door tightened and his mouth twists into a pained frown as his eyes darken, "Why are you showing me this memory?"

The writer gave him a look, "The thing is Dean, this isn't a memory." He closed the door and so does, Dean. "This _is_ the actual 1983 Lawrence, Kansas. It might be hard to believe it but we've traveled back to the past."

"Dean!" A familiar voice made the Winchester's heart skip a beat and he looked wide-eyed as he watched a small version of himself running from behind the house to the front lawn. God, he forgot how tacky his haircut was, blond like his mother's and straight. This was his last good memory of their old house. His chest ached. He remembered replaying it again and again in his mind after the fire, just so he wouldn't forget. Instead of fairytales his father stopped telling him and lullabies his mother used to sing when he couldn't go to sleep, this became his comfort for most of the nights as he bit into his pillow and tried not to cry.

He watched as his mom came out, smiling happily, arms outstretched as the child Dean let go of his ball and ran to his mother's arms.

"If what you say is true…" He choked. He could be delusional or dying or something even worse but Chuck's words brought hope into his fucked up life and God, with Sammy gone, what was there left to lose? If he was delusional then he'd ride out this crazy train and try to be happy before the end. "Did you bring me here for a reason?"

The Lord's prophet gave him a sad look, "I know what you're thinking and I'm sorry." He took a deep breathe in, "But you can't change what's about to happen."

"Why the hell not?" Dean yelled but then he lowered his voice, scared that Mary would see him and be scared or worse disappointed at the stranger man leaning by her husband's car. But thankfully, Chuck seemed to have done some mojo which made them invisible.

"If you can change something, you have to be in that four-year-old's body." Chuck explained, "But I'm afraid that no matter what you do, your mother dies today, you lose a home today, and your life is changed _today_. It's a fixed point and even I can't bend the rules that much."

Dean is barely listening and Chuck sighed as he snapped his fingers once more.

Day turned to night and in place of their simple two-story house is the burned remains of his life. The hunter sucked in a surprise breath and turned to yell at Chuck or maybe beg him to go back to before the fire and at least let him warn them-

-But his words died in his throat when he saw his crestfallen father hugging the six month old version of Sam, with the young Dean leaning beside him, eyes wide and confused. Firemen talked about the destroyed house, citing reasons of how the fire could have happened.

"What do you remember about this night?" Chuck's voice behind him nearly made him jump. But he focused on his younger self asking his dad about his mom and where they were going to live now.

"I remember asking Dad about what happened." Dean gulped, fists trembling, "He didn't answer. How could he when he could barely understand what just happened? He sent me away- look, he's doing that right now." He pointed to his younger self carefully extracting himself from his dad's side, "He wanted me to ask our neighbor if we could stay the night."

His younger self was so small, barely noticeable in the dark. His father had been so deep in his grief that he didn't even notice that his oldest child wasn't wearing any shoes and was just walking down the road barefoot.

"And?"

Dean scrunched his face, "And I think, I remember a man talking to me, warning me or telling me something… I-"

"Tell me Dean, where is that man now?" Chuck asked and sure enough Dean watched and saw that there wasn't any man nearby to talk to his younger self.

"Wha-? But he was-" Dean looked at the prophet, "Who-?"

The scrawny prophet pushed him forward, "If you have anything you want to say to yourself before his life changes, now would be the time."

The hunter blinked before he understood. Ah, so the man from his memory was actually him from the future? Weren't there some sort of rules or time paradox thing going to happen? But instead of voicing this out, he just nodded and walked towards the young Dean Winchester.

"Hey, hey kid." He called out awkwardly to himself. The blonde kid turned to him, eyes curious, not yet distrustful but Dean knew that that would change in a few months, give or take. "Do you have a second?"

"My dad told me to look for Aunt Millie and ask-"

"Yeah, well your dad ain't gonna notice shit." The young Dean wrinkled his nose at the curse word and the hunter couldn't help but let out a rough laugh. "I just wanna talk to you…" Then he added softly, "Please."

He didn't know what his other self saw in his face, but green eyes softened and the kid approached him, looking up, waiting. Dean leaned down so that they could be face-to-face.

"You look tired, mister."

Dean laughed again, "Yeah, yeah… I'm pretty tired."

"Why are you still laughing if you're tired?"

"Because that's how you get through life, kid. When everything turns to shit you laugh like it's not." He said, but the younger him just gave him a sour look for the curse words and he sighed. "Look…"

Dean had imagined before how different his life could be if he could just go back and tell himself things he knew about the future. He imagined giving himself a step-by-step list on what _not to do_ starting with _Don't you trust that Ruby chick and don't let her near Sam_ and ending with _don't stand too close to an exploding Dick_. He imagined giving his younger self horrific details about the future just to scare himself into doing what needs to be done.

But _this_ younger self was a four-year-old kid who just lost his mom and was on the verge of losing his father. He had a younger brother to take care of and he had a fat load of bullshit in the future and didn't need more nightmares on his plate. Besides, he doubted if the kid would believe him. And how can he? He thinks monsters aren't real. Not yet anyway.

So instead of that planned speech and step-by-step detailed talk he mapped out, Dean said instead, "It's gonna get harder after this. This is the night your life changes and don't you forget that, okay?" He inhaled deeply and uncertainly placed his hands on his other's self's small shoulders. Too small to carry any burden. His eyes burned at the thought of this certain child's future, "Sometimes things will be too much and you just want to break down and scream but I want you to be thankful, alright? You have a Dad and Sammy and in the near future you'll have an Uncle Bobby and loads of other people you'd give everything for."

He looked into the eyes not yet tainted by horror and darkness, "Hold tight to them and don't you let them go. Protect them with all you've got. Always keep them close."

The younger Dean blinked, not understanding, but sensing that this was important, he nodded. "Okay. But mister, are you alright?"

Dean let out a broken laugh, "Yeah, I'll live." He patted his younger self on the cheek, then hesitated. He remembered being hugged by the stranger. It was warm and protective like how his dad used to hug him and it meant a lot to him after that night. So, with a resigned sigh, he leaned forward and enveloped the surprised kid in his arms, saying things he had always wanted to hear in his life, words he carried deep in his heart but never believed in. Still, he needed to hear them. "You're doing great, Dean. You're a brave little kid. Sam and your Dad? They're lucky to have you. Don't you forget that."

Green eyes lit up and Dean's younger self gave him a wide smile when he pulled back, "Thanks!"

"Yeah…"Dean grunted and got up. "That's all, go and find your Aunt Millie." The kid nodded and ran towards a person coming out of their house. "Oi, be careful with your feet, you ain't wearing anything on those!" His younger self just waved and continued running and he shook his head. "Crazy kid."

Chuck chose that moment to step up, a proud smile on his face, "You did good, Dean."

"Yeah, suck it up. Now, are you going to take me back or are you gonna take me to hell and get this done and over with?" The hunter said as he trekked away from the scene.

The prophet frowned, "Why do you always like assuming that you're ending up in hell? Didn't God already promise you a place in heaven or something?" Then he complained to the heavens, "Gah, why did I have to make such an antsy character?"

Dean gave him a look, "Okay, first of all, you didn't _make _me." He argued, "And second, I don't give a rat's ass about that dick's promises. It's his fault the whole world's in this mess. Left his freaking angels in charge and surprise, surprise! They threw an apocalypse!" He said in disdain. "So, there. Yeah, I'm definitely ending up in hell because I didn't do what those dick angels said."

Chuck winced, looking down. "Eh… well, I'm sure God will make it up to you, one way or another. He'll be a _little_ late but what's important is that he'll get to it. Better late than never right?"

The hunter snorted, "Yeah right. Keep saying that." He said, "So, you gonna tell me what's the point of putting me here?"

The prophet sighed before he cleared his throat and straightened. "Yeah, well Dean, I came to you because I wanted to give you a choice.

"A choice?" Dean raised an eyebrow, "That's something new." Chuck shot him a look.

"Anyway, today may not have been something that could be avoided, but there are a few points in the past that you could change." Chuck said with a small smile, "Let's go?"

And before Dean could reply, the Prophet snapped his fingers and then they were gone.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: <strong>This has been sitting with me for awhile now, so I hope you guys enjoy this. I haven't been to read any spn fanfics here yet on in AOO but I'm telling you now that this story is a hundred percent different. This is for Dean who doesn't have a home.

So yeah, that's it, thanks for reading and drop a review if you can!


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **_Here We Go Again_  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Losing his brother to the trials in closing the Gates of Hell, has taken its toll on Dean Winchester. With nothing left to live for, a certain Prophet-slash-writer thought to be long dead, makes him an offer. Dean opens his eyes to the night he made Sam leave Stanford to find their dad, only this time, instead of waking his brother, Dean drives off into the night by himself. Years later...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

Dean looked up into the darkness and whatever he was about to say was gone. His heart sunk when he saw the abandoned house by the dark road, near the forest.

"One of the worst nights of my life." He remembered saying that a long time ago, somewhere up there in heaven as he and Sam trekked down the road, looking for a God that didn't care. "The night Sam ditched us for Stanford."

"This is one of the things that you could change, Dean." Chuck said somewhere to his right. "You were the number one person Sam didn't want to leave behind."

"Yeah, tell that to his face. He left anyway. And this night…" He turned around, arms outstretched, a forced smile on his lips, "This became one of his happiest memories. My own _personal,_ living hell."

"But you could change it." Chuck said slowly, hands gesturing to the house where he could hear loud yelling and bottles being broken into shards. Dean flinched as he heard his own frightened voice trying to calm the remains of his family, to put them back together again. He remembered being scared out of his wits, terrified, because he could see that Sam was leaving them and there was no stopping him.

He remembered having that same choice once, back at Sonny's, the happiest two months of his life. But then he looked out of the window, saw Sam and gave it all up just like that.

He was an idiot to think that Sam would do the same for him.

"And how do you propose I change it?" Dean swallowed as the door opened with a loud bang and Sam was by the door, his face livid.

He heard his dad yell, "If you walk out that door, don't you ever come back!" He flinched as he remembered the same words coming from his mouth.

"Anyway you wish." Chuck answered him, as he watched entranced, when Sam hesitated, he was staring at someone. Who? "You could tell him who you are, someone from the future. Drink holy water and do stuff that will prove to him you're not lying. If there's anyone Sam will believe, it's you. You can tell him that if he left now and chose Stanford, hundreds of people will die, almost always the ones he loved."

And hundreds of people did die. Including Jess, Sarah, and who knows how many others. They saved several, however the death toll always beat the rescued ones. But-

Sam went out of the door, closing it with a bang. He had a duffel bag on his shoulder, the only things he brought with him. It seemed like they were invisible this time too, because the youngest Winchester didn't even look up. He went down the steps and passed by them.

Up close, he'd never seen Sam so young, so well. The last he saw of his brother, he was lying on a hospital bed, deathly still. He shuddered and unable to help himself, he followed.

"Sam." He said but his brother didn't hear him.

Behind him, Chuck asked as he followed, "Do you want me to make you visible?"

It was a temptation, to be seen and heard. He wanted to stop his brother, to hug him and tell him not to leave. "No." Dean said instead. "Keep me invisible, I might give him a heart attack." Chuck may have nodded but he didn't see.

Sam kept walking, but his pace was slowing down. His face was a mix of confusion and fear but there was underlying disbelief and joy that he finally got _out_.

"I'm sorry." Dean said when his brother finally stopped, as though trying to absorb what just happened. He pretended that Sam stopped because he sensed him. "You might think that this is it, that it's over, that you're finally out… but it's not. It's going to get harder and I'm sorry." He looked at his brother's unseeing eyes, "I'm sorry because I won't be able to protect you from what's about to come."

Sam began to laugh, there were tears in his eyes but relief echoed from him. It hurt Dean to see his brother so happy when he was away from them, but he understood. It hurt but he understood.

"You're a good kid and you don't deserve any of this." The oldest Winchester said, "That's why I won't take any of this from you. I won't- I won't change this part because for some fucked up reason this is one of your happiest memories and I'll let you have that." He remembered a dying Sam, a Sam who looked out of the window of the Impala and saw men his age with children. He remembered longing on his brother's face. "I'll let you have this."

He started to walk away but the he paused and turned to walk back, "But I just wanted you to know that it was still pretty goddamn selfish of you to leave me behind." He started honestly and once he started, it was hard to stop, his voice growing in volume. "To leave dad and me behind… I had to clean up his mess and put him back together again, you know? By myself. And it _hurt_ because- because I knew he would have preferred you over me any day!"

Dean was walking away again but he came back. Maybe it was because his brother couldn't hear him and the only one who heard him was some lazy-ass writer or because his brother was still alive here and naïve about his pain or because he knew that his unheard words wouldn't hurt at all, that he continued to speak.

"I was _always_ there for you." Dean walked up to his brother, looking at that exhilarant face. It's so weird to be taller than Sam for a change. "I gave up all that I could for you and for _what_? Just to be left behind like that? Didn't you think, even once, that I would have wanted an out too? That I wanted to go to college, meet a pretty girl, get married and all that apple pie life? I was in this life longer than you and I hated it more than anyone ever could! I had to learn how to shoot when I was four! While I watched as Dad tried to baby you until you were eight!" He raised a hand but then clenched it into a fist, pushing it against his forehead as though to keep the anger in.

"But goddamnit it Sam, I loved you and Dad, so I tried to be okay with it. I really did." The hunter said, "But you keep leaving me behind and it's not okay. It's not okay, man… It's not." He buried his face in his hands, "It's not."

There was a beat of silence as Sam tried to get his breath back, still blind to his grieving older brother in front of him.

"Dean…" Chuck said slowly. "If you're not gonna change this past, we should go." He added and Dean held his head up and exhaled.

"Yeah." He said as started to walk away, heading towards the prophet. A car came up from behind them and Sam excitedly waved his hands, signaling at it.

The hunter stopped beside Chuck and watched his brother hitchhike, getting in the car and talking with the driver. The car door slammed shut and Sam put on his earphones as the driver began to take his little brother away from his only family.

Dean closed his eyes as he remembered what happened next.

The door to the abandoned house opened, and he heard someone, himself, hurrying down the steps. He opened his eyes and watched himself stumble a few times, face terrified and hurt as he tried to run after the car taking his little brother from him.

"Sam!" The older of the Winchester siblings yelled as he raised his hands while he ran. The driver had probably turned up the music so he couldn't hear anything and Sam was busy with his goddamn earphones. "SAM!"

"No one will hear you, so shut your goddamn cakehole already!" Dean couldn't help but yell at himself. Chuck gave him a sad look, but his younger self didn't hear and just kept yelling as though his own distress would make Sam rethink his decision.

"SAM!" The younger Dean yelled, "SA-"

"Dean." Both Deans turned to find their dad by the door, his face red but firm. "Leave it, boy. Even if he comes back, he ain't welcome."

"You can't mean that, dad!" Dean argued, "It's Sam! He'll come back! I know it!"

"Keep telling yourself that." His dad said in a gruff tone as he went back in, probably to drink some more.

"He'll come back. He'll definitely come back." Dean told himself and he walked to the steps and sat down, bunching the jacket around him, to keep him warm. "I'll wait for you, Sammy and I'll give you a punch in the face if you keep me waiting long." He said to no one in particular.

The older Dean gave the teenage him a sad look before he said to Chuck, "Let's go." He began to walk.

The prophet ran after him, "What happened after that?"

The hunter scoffed, "Right, as if you don't know."

Chuck shook his head, "I don't get visions of _everything_."

Dean sighed as he looked back at his hopeful, more naïve version, "What do you think, Chuck? I waited. I waited well into the morning, didn't even get a blink of shut eye."

"And when you're Dad told you that it was time to leave?" Chuck asked softly.

"I fought tooth-and-nail to stay. Even when we were officially gone, I kept coming back. _Maybe Sam just got lost or something,_ ya know? I kept calling his phone but Sam knew all my numbers." Dean's eyes hardened. "He never picked up." He exhaled at his cold hands. "It wasn't until I went to Stanford and saw his name on the list of students that I got the message." The oldest Winchester turned to the prophet. "He ain't coming back."

Instead of assuring him that _no, maybe it's not what you think_, Chuck just shook his head in reply. He knew Dean well enough not to say anything. "Let's head on to the next point." He raised his hand and Dean closed his eyes, wishing for a better version of the past.

Chuck snapped his fingers.

* * *

><p>When Dean opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was the Impala. The second thing he noticed was…<p>

"Stanford," He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "Let me guess, the night I brought Sam back to all of this, right?"

"Another point in time you could change." Chuck said as he looked around shivering a bit as he pocketed his hands. "And I won't stop you, if you choose to."

The hunter leaned against the Impala, suddenly feeling weak. "Why?"

The writer gave him a look. Having written Dean for a long time, it was no doubt he already knew what he was asking with that one word. So he shrugged and said, "It's a reward."

The man laughed harshly, "Reward for what? For being the best screw up in the world? Oh, so hell wasn't enough?"

"Dean…" He said quietly, "You can change what's going to happen here. You can prevent the deaths of so many people…"

The hunter hit the top of his car with a loud 'bang' but Chuck barely flinched. "And how am I so sure that this won't backfire on me too, huh?" He yelled, "How can I trust that the future that will result in whatever bullshit I change, won't screw me over, Chuck?"

"But whatever result it may be, it's still better than what you had." The writer answered simply, "That's what you're thinking right? That's why you're still here, arguing about this with me rather than ganking me with a nearby sharp object or something." He said with a wave of his hand.

Dean looked at him in frustration before his expression dropped to exasperation. "Where did you get all this mojo anyway, Chuck? If you're even Chuck or just some psycho bitch pretending to be him."

"I _am_ Chuck… or Carver Edlund or whatever." Chuck said, his stance loose and pliant like the lazy writer he knew from so long ago. "The Almighty-Prophet-of-the-Lord Chuck, you knew. The writer of the Supernatural books with an archangel on his shoulder, blegh."

Dean gave him a suspicious look, "Then did you have these powers all along, Almighty Prophet of the Lord? Are you some type of trickster Demigod?"

The prophet gave him a wry smile. "That's more like it, the old, suspicious-of-everyone Dean Winchester I know is back. You're having hope again which is why you're starting to care and ask me questions." He said with a wiggle of his finger. "But you're stalling Dean and I can't answer your questions anyway. It'd be best if I don't. All I ask is that you trust me and choose what to do now. Not only for you but for your brother and for the people you love."

Chuck gestured at Sam's dormitory where his younger self will be breaking in, in a few minutes. "Will you wake Sam in the middle of the night and convince him to go with you. Or will you stop yourself and go look for your dad on your own?"

For a moment, Dean looked like he wanted to argue. He wanted to prod and ask _what would he be sacrificing this time if he really did change the past?_ But then he thought back to the fact that he had nothing left to sacrifice now. Nothing left to lose. It was either this or going back to that future where there was no Sam, no anybody… and his heart stuttered at the thought.

"And if I _do_ choose to stop myself… Does that mean that _I _wouldn't exist? That the me who lived through Azazel, Lilith, Lucifer's rising, the goddamn apocalypse, the Leviathans, the demons, and the angels… The me who remembered all that would be _gone_?" Dean asked seriously and not in fear of being erased. "And what would the point of that be? Even if I decided not to come get Sammy, Azazel would come right after his ass anyway and try to rope him back in. Jess would still die, he'd still _die_, and _I'd_ still give my soul to get him back. And we'd make those same goddamn choices that lead to the end of the world anyway! There's no happy ending. We'll still be going through the motions and the world will still be a hell-hole bent on making us miserable."

Chuck shook his head, "Not if you choose to give your memories to your past self."

The hunter froze, "What?"

"This is why I didn't want you changing the past when you were _four_. Your four-year-old self wouldn't be able to handle the things you know." The writer explained, "But the Dean Winchester of now, you've seen the darkness of this world and I think you can handle a few memories that would help you save the few people you love." Chuck met his eyes, "This is the compromise, Dean, the one upside. If you _do_ stop yourself now, you can give him everything you know of what will happen so that you can ensure Sam's safety and everybody else's safety."

Dean gulped but nodded.

"But there _are_ consequences and things you can't change and I know you won't like them." Chuck said uneasily as Dean's dumbfounded stare hardened into a glare. "A few people are meant to die, like your mom, it's a fixed point in time, and it can't be changed." He raised his hands when the hunter glowered, "I'm sorry but that's how it is."

The oldest Winchester sucked in a breath. Who are these people? Surely not his brother or his friends or his dad again, right? "Okay." He breathed out, "And?"

"And the next one is pretty obvious." The writer scratched at the back of his neck, "You _can't_ tell anyone about what will happen or what you think is about to happen. You're pretty much on your own once you start changing things and I'm sorry for that." He sighed, "I say this is a reward but seeing as how you'll be alone in this from the get-go-"

"Me being alone means squat." The hunter said seriously. "Sure I'll bitch now and again and _man_, I might hate it because heck, I'm just human and it _will _be hard getting by on my own, knowing all these things other people don't know. But my past self knows what's important and I'm counting on that. It won't matter to me if after this I'm alone, crawling on my belly, dying in some goddamn place trying to kill some goddamn monster, because I'll live. I'll make sure I'll live with those bullshit scars so that I can protect Sammy and Bobby and everyone else. I can never _ever_ live for myself, I've always lived for them. That's why no matter what the bad side is, I'm thankful. Because unlike some sorry jackasses out there, _I_ get a second chance."

Chuck couldn't help a wry smile on his lips, "And this, Dean Winchester, is exactly the reason why you're called the 'righteous man'. You may think you're some useless pile of garbage to be thrown away, but you have a magnificent soul and I'm sorry that you can't stop hating yourself for one second and see that."

The hunter gave him a strange look, not knowing if he should accept that as a compliment or feel insulted, but then a familiar figure came skulking from a nearby vending machine and Dean abruptly turned.

It was his younger self, back when he was twenty-something. He looked so young and yet his eyes already held the dullness of seeing too much ugly in the world. In his hands he was nursing a can of root beer. He remembered drinking it all in one go and saying, "Let's do this!" trying to pump himself up before his inevitable meeting with his brother.

The same brother he gave up everything for but left him behind anyway.

As though hearing his thoughts, the young Dean tensed before opening the can of beer and drinking it all up.

"It's now or never, Dean. Just touch him and think about everything you've seen, that'll do the trick." Chuck said behind him and the oldest Winchester took a deep breath and nodded. The prophet tapped his shoulders and cold air rushed out of his skin, leaving it warm like something had been lifted from him.

His younger counterpart chose that moment to turn and he dropped the can he was holding, "The hell-" Dean strode forward with purpose, closing the distance in a few steps, grabbing the other by the shoulders in a strong, firm grip before he took out his gun. "The fuck are you-"

The tired, righteous man closed his eyes and allowed his memories free. He allowed every crap emotion, every unshed tear, every desperation, frustration, sadness, and hopelessness to color his every thought and memory. He felt the younger him freeze in his hands but he kept going and hoped whatever he was doing was working.

He tried to remember every moment, every regret, every 'could have been', every disappointment, every mistake, every heartbreak, and every sacrifice. He went into detail of what to avoid, and what not to do, of who not to trust, and of who to protect. He recalled every death with vivid color, his heart clamoring in his chest at the guilt. He remembered the deep, dark, nothing his soul had become after years and years of covering it up, of trying to be strong. Something wet and warm slid down his tired cheeks and he tried not to acknowledge it, thinking that maybe it was some rain warmed by his temperature or sweat from concentration.

Then eventually, he had to let go, falling into a kneel as his younger self fell with him, slumping in his arms. He felt the younger Dean tense at their position and he knew that they both remembered the same thing from his memories. Sam dying in his arms at Cold Oak.

"No, no, no… That won't happen again." Dean said as he cupped his younger self's face and forced frightened green eyes to look at him. His mouth was opening and closing as though not knowing what to say. The barely adult him seemed like he was on the verge of breaking down, eyes raw red and seeming about to cry from what he saw. Dean supported the back of his neck with his hand and patted his cheek like how he used to do to his little brother. "Don't you fucking break, you hear me? Don't you breakdown from this… You got a second chance and you're gonna man up and move on. It's the only way to save everyone."

His younger counterpart flinched at the word 'save' and the horror remained etched on his other's face. His eyes were looking sideways trying to process the images in his head. Still, the barely adult Dean swallowed and nodded.

"Good… good." Dean suddenly felt tired, his eyes were drooping and he wanted to lie down and sleep _so bad_. But he knew what was happening, he was fading. He smirked, _Well, that was fast. _At the back of his mind, the survivor in him panicked but in his heart he knew that that this was supposed to happen if it means that the future he came from was to change. So his arms fell to his side and this time, he was the one to slump forward into the shoulders and arms of his younger self.

"You protect them." He mumbled onto his dad's old leather jacket, one that he had long outgrown. "You do everything you can to protect them." Were this parting words? One last instruction to himself? Was it alright to tell himself to try to be happy for a change? Or was it more of a mercy to say to cut yourself off from every human being who could crush your heart just so you won't get hurt? Smaller hands grabbed at his tired arms. He let out a sigh and one last regret, knowing he would be heard, that this would be the last time he would be heard. "Protect them because in the end, I…I couldn't." Green eyes closed at the admission…

…And like a sudden exhale, the thirty-one year-old Dean who had lived through hell, the apocalypse, and so many wars… was gone, leaving his younger counterpart to take the burden in his place, kneeling, green eyes wide still with that unmistakable fear.

Chuck stepped forward, shaking his head. "Selfish prick. Didn't even say goodbye properly." But his face was tired and grieving as he met the eyes of a much younger Dean. "Heya, Dean."

"Chuck." The voice hadn't developed into that deep tone of the thirty-one-year-old Dean yet. There was uncertainty in his tone, like a person trying to place a name to a familiar object. "What the _fuck_ is happening? Why did I- Who-?"

The prophet could already see the confusion forming in the eyes of the Dean that hadn't lived through any of the horrors yet. He sighed, the kid was going to have some nightmares for awhile.

"Long story, short, kid, you need to choose what you're about to do here." The writer explained, "The other Dean believed that you'd choose the right thing to make sure no one else dies in the future. After receiving his memories, I'm sure you know what he'd choose."

Dean looked at the dormitory he remembered breaking into several years back- no, that wasn't right, he hadn't broken in yet. It was the other Dean who did. His temple throbbed as he nodded slowly, "I'm- I'm not supposed to drag Sam into this mess again. I'm supposed to leave and not look back."

Of course, that's the route the older Dean would've chosen to take. "And?"

The barely adult Dean shakily got up, "I-" He stumbled a bit before straightening, squaring his shoulders. "He's right but- after what I saw, I- I have to watch over Sam and Jessica… M-Make sure Azazel doesn't fucking do anything or ruin anything but I-I have to get the Colt and-"

"One at a time, Dean." Chuck said as he raised his hands trying to pacify the hunter, "For now, why don't you get some rest?" He said as he extended two fingers to the other's forehead.

The hunter turned, green eyes misty from trying to remember. But through the haze of confusion and fear, suspicion broke through and he narrowed his eyes, "Chuck, who are you?"

The prophet paused and then smiled in amusement. The fact that Dean was questioning who he was proved that one way or another, the hunter would be alright. The writer shrugged his shoulders, "I already told you who I was before, but you tried to assure me I wasn't."

_Well, there's only one explanation._ Chuck said after he drank something to get rid of his hangover. He looked up seriously, _Obviously, I'm a God._

Sam shook his head slightly, _You're not a God. _

As this certain memory was clamoring for attention in the younger Dean's brain, the prophet stepped up clamping a hand on his shoulder before turning and placing two fingers on the other's forehead.

"You're-" Dean managed to choke out before his eyes rolled back and he fell to the ground in a dead heap.

Chuck leaned down a sad smile on his face, "I told you God will make it up to you, one way or another." He reached out and touched the necklace around Dean's neck. The hunter was too out of it to realize that it was burning his skin.

"I'm sorry for being late, Dean."

* * *

><p>The first thing Dean realized when he woke up, was that he was in the Impala, still parked outside of Sam's dormitory, and it was still nighttime. Second, he remembered the memories clamoring at the back of his head, memories that weren't supposed to be his in the first place but in one way or another was given to him. The third thing he realized was that no matter how hard he tried to remember, he couldn't make out the face and the name of the person who sent him here and why.<p>

"Urgh, it feels like I chugged down gallons of beer and have the world's biggest hangover." He muttered to himself as he reached for the key in the ignition and started up the engine on his Baby. The engine purred to life and Dean smiled and patted the dashboard through his exhaustion. At least there was one constant in his life, the one thing that never left him.

And that was his beloved Impala.

As he was about to drive the hell out of there, he suddenly saw a figure coming out of the dormitory building, wearing a tacky jogging outfit.

It took everything in him to stay put and _not _call out.

Dean's heart squeezed in his chest when he made out the once familiar figure of his younger brother, Sam, putting on his earphones and doing warm-ups before his jog. He looked at his radio clock and realized it was four in the morning and that his brother had always been a salad-lover and exercise-freak.

It felt like something was lodged permanently into his throat and his eyes burned as he inhaled sharply through his nose. After having his short nap he was able to think more clearly now and he knew that Azazel wouldn't be going after his brother yet, so it was safe for him to be away for awhile and focus on looking for the Colt. Besides, from what he remembered, his dad would be sending some people asking for help and he had to be ready.

Dean's grip on the steering wheel tightened and just as he thought that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to say hello, a memory of Sam dying in his arms flashed in his mind. He bit his lip, trying not to scream at the pain in his head and in his chest at the thought.

_I get it, I get it!_ He said to himself, _I can't!_

The throbbing eventually eased and the oldest Winchester panted and rubbed at his eyes. Only the dull ache in his chest remained and he forced himself to look forward easing his car out of the parking lot with gritted teeth.

He liked to think that he didn't look back in the rearview mirror when Sam started to do his running. He liked to pretend that he wouldn't miss that gigantor of a brother who used to look up and need him as much as he needed his little brother to be there.

And to ease the ache he felt at leaving behind a person who did not care about him, he fooled himself into hoping that maybe the reason why Sam stopped when he came out was because he caught a glimpse of the Impala and not because he had to stoop down and tie his shoelaces.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong> My heartbreaking headcanon: On the night Sam left, Dean waited for him for days to come back. He stayed up all night, hoping Sam would come back.

YES, Castiel will appear in the future, worry not! So will Adam :3

Thanks for tuning in this fic guys :D I appreciate the reviews (shame aside, PLEASE REVIEW) The next chapter will be years after this, how life has changed for everyone after Dean's choice. Next update is on Saturday. Thanks again!


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **_Here we go again._  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Losing his brother to the trials in closing the Gates of Hell, has taken its toll on Dean Winchester. With nothing left to live for, a certain Prophet-slash-writer thought to be long dead, makes him an offer. Dean opens his eyes to the night he made Sam leave Stanford to find their dad, only this time, instead of waking his brother, Dean drives off into the night by himself. Years later...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

_Several years after that…_

"Hey, Brady hasn't been in yet, has he?" A twenty-six-year-old up-and-coming lawyer of the Sandover Bridge and Iron Company, Sam Winchester, asked Charlie Bradbury, one of the technical department's employees.

Charlie was a master technician and a brilliant hacker, the last compliment being something he witnessed himself when he accidentally saw her hacking into the government's donation programs. His lawyer conscience tugged at him but he was put at ease when, after an in-depth research, he realized that she had been giving the much needed money to her comatosed mother's medical expenses. The soft-hearted Winchester even went as far as to give some of his own money. He pretended not to notice when the red-head began inviting him to her Live Action Roleplay gatherings immediately after his anonymous donation. So much for his idea of incognito, he really shouldn't be shocked that she traced it back to him. But she seemed determined to plant herself in his life.

He'd think she was flirting but _he_ was clearly not her type.

The redhead took off her headset, tilting her head, "Sorry, what was that, Rapunzel?" She asked as she bit onto some licorice. Sam couldn't help the smile on his face despite the insult. She reminded him so much of-

_No, don't think about that._ Sam thought as he cleared his throat, "Yeah, uh, Brady? You know? The company's CEO?"

"Oh." Charlie began nodding as she swerved in her chair and went back to whatever software program she was developing. "Blonde, tall, and the wrong gender? Nope, sorry! Zero sightings of the big bad boss." The lawyer couldn't help but think that she was avoiding his eyes for some reason. "_Anyway_, Sam, you up for anything this weekend? Maybe need to catch a break from married life and hang out with the cool singles at a rockin' convention?"

"Uh," The lawyer chuckled, "Sorry, no. It's sort of a big weekend for me and Jess. Anniversary and everything."

Charlie turned back to him a look on his face, "Sappy couples, not that I expect anything less from a big teddy bear like you… but still, give the romcom life some rest or you might pull something."

"Thanks for the advice." The youngest Winchester said, "Maybe next time. Call me if you catch sight of Brady in one of the security cameras or something."

Charlie looked briefly uncomfortable at the mention of Brady but then instead she said in a mock scandalized tone, "Sam, what are you implying? That I, _somehow_, managed to hack into all of the company's security footage?"

Sam laughed, "Exactly what I'm implying."

Charlie shrugged, "Eh, you're right, it was a zinch."

Sam laughed all the way back to his office. Charlie couldn't help but smile at lawyer before she sighed and went back to what she was doing. A skype alert caught her attention and she rolled her eyes at the username that popped up.

**MrBadAss:**_ How's the moose uptown, red ranger?  
><em>**HermioneGrangerFTW:**_ I still think your name is stupid. _And_ no worries about our moose, still in his enclosed habitat with the big bad sign of 'NO HUNTING BEYOND THIS PROPERTY'. He's endangered but not _in danger.  
><strong>MrBadAss:<strong>_ Gotcha, reporting that to PrettyGreenEyes.  
><em>**HermioneGrangerFTW:**_ That can't be his username, can it? I mean, I see where he'd get it but _'PrettyGreenEyes'_ doesn't sound like something he'd choose. More like Zeppelin rocks or something.  
><em>**MrBadAss:**_ Eh, I think he needs to loosen up, so even if it's not the skype username he'd choose, it's the one I chose for him. Hacked his account and everything ;D_

Charlie laughed as she typed:

**HermioneGrangerFTW:**_ Oh you little genius, go and be brilliant.  
><em>**MrBadAss:**_ ;*_

_MrBadAss has signed off._

Charlie typed a few more things, permanently deleting her conversation and looking over her shoulder to look if anyone saw. She sighed when all her coworkers seemed to be in their own world. The expert hacker leaned back and closed her eyes, putting her headphones back on.

Seemed like it was going to be another normal day.

* * *

><p>"Mr. Winchester, someone's here to see you."<p>

"Let them in." The lawyer said distractedly not seeing his secretary nod before she went out and came back in with the guest.

"Sam Winchester." British accent made the lawyer look up from the files he was studying. He came face-to-face with one of the Incorporators of their company, the rich heiress of the Talbots, Bela Talbot.

Sam stood up with a smile, "Ms. Talbot."

"Please call me Bela." She smiled seductively as she leaned forward and kissed both his cheeks. Sam's face burned at the intimate greeting. He cleared his throat and gestured for her to sit down. "So, uh, what can I do for you, Ms. Tal- er Bela?"

The heiress gave him a haughty smile crossing her legs, "Actually, it's rather more about what I can do for _you_." She leaned on his desk, "How would you feel about being the company's new CEO?"

The tall man blinked, expression clearly surprised. "Excuse me?" He said, "I'm sorry but Brady is-"

"-Gone. Transferred to a new company faraway, Britain I think. Well, too bad, moving on." Bela said all these in a fast manner. "So, what do you think? Your own floor, new and improved secretary, best view, a higher pay…? I'm not hearing a no." She tried to bait.

Sam, meanwhile, was still processing all this. "I'm sorry but I'm confused- Brady left? He's gone? And what do you mean transferred to another company? I didn't hear about any of this!"

The woman gave him an impatient look before leaning back and crossing her arms, "Well, obviously, because he didn't tell you. He passed the letter to our office just yesterday afternoon, the board of directors conducted a last-minute meeting and decided we want _you_ to be the new CEO of our company. So, to make this awfully long conversation, short, is that a yes or a no?"

"I-" Sam got up and started pacing, Bela watching him with bored eyes. "Look, this is so sudden, okay? Brady's my best friend! Don't you find it strange that he suddenly got up and left just like that, only leaving a letter?"

The young woman's eyes narrowed but she tried for flippant as she said, "Look, I don't know what else I can tell you, Sam. We try not to meddle in the private affairs of our workers. What we're only concerned about is that he quit and our CEO seat is vacant."

But the lawyer didn't seem to hear her, getting his phone out of his pocket, "Maybe I should call his family and ask." Bela tensed at this and turned her head to Sam, opening her mouth, "Maybe they-"

But he was interrupted when his phone started ringing. The young heiress sighed in relief while Sam's eyebrows furrowed when he saw that it was his wife calling.

"Hello, Jess?" He picked up, turning his back for some semblance of privacy. Bela just raised an eyebrow at the action.

Crackling sounds greeted Sam's ear, his frown deepening, "Jess, is everything okay?" Bela seemed interested, leaning forward on Sam's desk unknown to the lawyer.

The crackling continued before suddenly there was abrupt silence. Sam was about to hang up and call again, when-

"Sam, he…Help m-me-" The youngest Winchester's blood ran cold when he heard the familiar tone of his wife.

"Jess!?" His panicked tone made Bela jump. "What's happening!? Where are you-"

"Toot, toot, toot, what a naughty little wifey you have Mr. Winchester." Another voice, a childish one, answered. "Well, you heard her Sammy boy, come and help her before it's too late." There was a sound of something cracking and a blood curling scream that no doubt belonged to his wife.

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

The line was cut off and Sam dropped his phone, fear running through his veins.

"Sam?" Bela sounded worried and wary, "Is there something wro-?"

"I have to go!" He yelled as he pushed past her and towards the exit. The rich heiress stumbled and looked at the panicked lawyer in surprise for a few seconds before she sniffed in disdain. She leaned down and picked up his phone before she took out her own and dialed a familiar number.

"Hello, Bobby?" Bela said as she scanned through Sam's phone, going through his gallery. She stopped at a picture of his wife and their neighbors. On the other line, Bobby grunted that he was listening. "Remember that father and daughter who moved upstate awhile back?" She gave him a coded question. On the other side of the line, the old man had frozen. "I think they better check their neighbor's house and see if anything's wrong. Or else a moose may be placed in danger."

Bela swiped her finger through the mobile, viewing the last picture with interest. "And if you still don't get it, it's a Code red on our side. Tell _him_ I said, hi."

A gruff snort came from the other side as Bobby hung up on her. The heiress pocketed her phone and looked at the one picture Sam had of his brother back when they were teens, green eyes twinkling with mirth as he laughed.

She traced down a finger on the familiar face. "Oh, how you've changed, Dean Winchester."

* * *

><p>Sirens were the first thing Sam heard when he stopped in front of his modest two-story house. Green eyes widened in fear when he saw fire trucks and police cars blocking the streets of this usually peaceful neighborhood.<p>

He was out of the car in mere seconds and ran up to the nearest policeman, heart thudding fearfully against his ribs. But he paused when he saw his house being hosed down by the firemen. Sam's face paled as he looked around for a head of blonde curls.

"Sir? Are you alright?"

"I'm-" Sam gulped. _Get a hold of yourself, Winchester_ he thought. "I'm the owner of this house. What happened? Where's my wife?"

The woman shook her head, "I'm sorry, there hasn't been any sightings of a woman in the fire. Although we've recovered a few bodies of men from the house, we're still waiting for the ambulance to get here and do a DNA check on them."

"A few- Arsonists? Criminals? Rapists? Thieves? Who were they and what did they want with my wife?" Sam panicked. They weren't the richest people in this street and their security system also wasn't that easy to bypass, so why would they be targets of any criminals? They were just a normal couple for Pete's sake!

"We don't know yet. But if you're really want to know what happened, I suggest talking to your neighbors." She gestured to two people being interviewed by the police. Sam turned his head so hard he almost had a whiplash.

"Mr. Chambers!" The lawyer yelled as he jogged to his friend and neighbor Greg Chambers and to his daughter, Krissy.

"Sam!" The single father gave him an aggrieved look when he turned away from the officer who left, "I'm really sorry, I tried to stop them but-"

"Tried to stop- what do you mean? What happened?" Fear dripped in his voice and Krissy gave the Winchester man a sad look.

"We heard some noises and then Jessica was yelling." He shook his head, "I told Krissy to call for help and ran to your house to help your wife but then when I step into the threshold I smelled smoke and realized they were burning the place down. I tried to look for her, I really did, but she was nowhere and I encountered one of those men instead." He gestured to the body bags in front of the house.

Now that Sam took a closer look, Krissy's dad's clothes were dark with soot and torn on the edges. Even his face and hair was slightly singed and there were angry red burns on his hands.

"I- Thank you." Sam said, shaking his head. "That- The fact that you came to help even though you didn't have to, I'm really grateful."

"No, I'm sorry for not being able to help Jessica." The male Chambers said with a shake of his head, "Have they found her?"

"I- No," Sam's heart sank again, "I don't- I don't think so."

His friend was about to say something but then his phone rang. "Excuse me, I have to take this." Sam nodded glumly and fixed a helpless stare to his old house, still being hosed down by firemen.

"You know, I think I can see the resemblance." The lawyer started and looked down, Krissy was still there, giving him an intuitive look. "You shouldn't be sad."

"Krissy, yeah, I'll- I'll keep hoping." He gave her a forced smile, and then he remembered her earlier statement. "What resemblance?"

"You're brother's an ass but I like him and he loves you a lot." Krissy said and Sam's green eyes widened. "He'll protect you and you'll get Jessica back, just watch." She said before she turned and ran to her father, leaving Sam gaping after her.

* * *

><p>"Hello," Greg said to the phone and a gruff tone answered him, bringing a smile to his face. "Didn't expect the chief to call me personally."<p>

There was a snort in reply but the old hunter could feel the tension of the other had slowly fading. There was a brief question and the oldest Chambers turned to look at Sam who was conversing with his daughter, "Yes, don't worry, he's one hundred percent fine. They came while he was at work but… I can't say the same thing for Jessica." There was tensed silence on the other side of the phone. He never really did like bringing bad news to the already stressed man.

"She's not dead if that's what you're thinking. But she's been taken and that's about as worse as dead." Greg explained, "We know what they can do with her still alive. Knowing your brother, he'll do _anything_ to get her back."

There was murmured reply on the other end and the man nodded, "Yes, of course I'll take care of Sam. I'm fine, yeah and so is Krissy. Don't thank us, Sam's my friend, I'd still have done the same thing."

More words of gratitude and Greg shook his head. "Just come around for dinner and beer like old times. We can watch a game on tv, Krissy would love to see you."

Hesitation, the other man had always been eager to be away from them, thinking it'd put them in less danger. That may be true but he and Krissy didn't mind. There was a 'maybe' on the other end and that would have to be good enough for now.

"You know," The older man said as he turned just as his daughter ran up to him, "I think now's the time to maybe explain to Sam what's happening. I man, clearly with his wife kidnapped, he's directly involved now. Maybe he can stay with you and you can-"

There was a loud and very clear 'no' from the other end. Even in that one word, it was clear how against the other man was of the idea. Krissy did a double-take at the tone, her eyebrows scrunched in confusion and worry.

"But-"

More arguing and Greg was forced to sigh and admit defeat, "If you think that's for the best. We'll take care of Sam. We'll phone you if anything else comes up. Yeah, yeah… Okay, see you, Dean."

"Is he okay?" Krissy asked. For all the snarking and teasing she exchanged with Dean, she cared a lot about the well-known hunter.

Her dad shrugged, "You know how he is. He'll insist that he's fine as long as his brother's fine."

"He's so stupid." His daughter sighed, "If he really wants to see his brother then why doesn't he?"

Her father smiled, "Well, you know why, honey."

"Yeah," The she placed a hand on her waist, "It still makes him stupid though."

"It does." Her father agreed readily, "Anyway, why don't you go back to the house and prepare the guest room. I'll invite Sam to stay with us until he gets things sorted out."

"Sounds like a plan." Krissy nodded, "Make sure to cheer him up, okay?"

"Of course, kiddo." Chambers said as he walked towards the brother of the man he owed a lot to.

* * *

><p>"Sounds like it was quite a party." Ellen Harvelle said as she watched the news on television about a house fire uptown. She whistled lowly, "Look at them go, three dead bodies retrieved from the house fire. Despite being retired, Greg hasn't lost his touch."<p>

Her daughter, Jo Harvelle, rolled her eyes, "Don't you have Bobby already, mom?" She asked as she wiped the tables.

The older Harvelle glared at his daughter, "Joanna Beth Harvelle don't you talk to your mother like that, young lady."

The blonde girl huffed, "Sorry, sorry. But Greg and Krissy are alright, right? No harm done?"

"Should be. Saw them being interviewed earlier. Seemed fine." Ellen assured her daughter as she continued wiping some glasses behind the bar.

"And Dean's brother, Sam?"

"Why don't we ask the chief himself?" Ellen said as she gestured to Ash's room. The man had holed himself up there talking tech with Ash about doing some research after his talk with Bela and Greg. "I suspect he'll be out in a few minutes for some beer. Might as well get him talking."

The blonde teen sighed, folding the rag in her hands before walking towards the bar. Her mother watched her carefully.

"What's wrong, hun?"

"It's nothing, mom." At her mother's disbelieving look she rolled her eyes and admitted, "I'm just worried about Dean. About what this will do to him. I mean, he's already so wound up making sure his brother's alright. And now, _actual_ demons go and attack him, he'll be-" She gestured helplessly with her hands, "You know? He won't be the Dean laughing with his mouth full of fries, or the Dean who sings 'Hey Jude' when he's drunk. He'll be the annoying, perfect hunter Dean. The Dean we knew before he loosened up."

"I know what you mean sweetie," Her mother assured Jo who sat on the bar stool. "But you know that's his number one defense armor when everything around him goes to hell. When everything's done, he'll be back to normal, like always. He just has to make sure that his brother's safe."

The blonde nodded and then sighed, "You know, that's one more thing I don't get, mom."

"Hm?"

"Sam and Dean, they only have each other left, right?" Jo said and in her eyes it said _like us_. Her mother gave her a sad smile, "Then how come Dean's all alone?"

"His brother went to college and didn't pick up the phone." Her mother explained, "That's what Bobby said, anyway."

"Then Dean's dad died." Jo said quietly.

Ellen nodded, "And Dean didn't tell his brother. Even forbade Bobby."

"But he's Sam's dad too, doesn't he deserve to know?" Her daughter asked.

"He does." The roadhouse owner nodded. "But for most of his life, Dean only had Sam and John. And then Sam left, then he only had John. John's gone now and Sam has someone else." She explained, "Tell me, if you were out of the hunting business for good but then you hear I was killed by demons, what would you do?"

Jo said nothing and Ellen understood, "Revenge isn't always for the best. No one knows his brother better than Dean, this was just him trying to protect Sam."

Jo nodded, "Yeah." The mother and daughter fell into contemplative silence and in a few minutes, the door to Ash's room opened. Ellen greeted the person who came out with a smile.

"You finally got a lead, Winchester?"

* * *

><p>Sam sat down on the bed of Greg Chamber's guest room with a defeated posture. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, the events of today finally making itself fully known. His wife had just been kidnapped or worse, killed in a fire just like his mom all those years ago. And he couldn't understand why it happened to them of all people. Why, out of everyone in that neighborhood, were they singled out?<p>

As soon as he thought that Sam felt guilty. Of course, no one deserved to go through what Sam did today, but still, how come _their_ house was broken in?

There was a knock on the door and Krissy's voice floated in, "Hey, Sam? Dinner's ready, do you need some clothes? I'm sure my dad can spare you some, but they may be a bit short."

The voice of the teen suddenly made the lawyer remember her statements towards his brother earlier. He tensed but then got up to open the door.

"Thanks, Krissy." He smiled down at his neighbor's daughter, "Hey, about earlier, you-"

"You mean about Dean?" Sam flinched at the name of his older brother. "I'm sorry, don't you like talking about him?"

"I-I didn't say that." Sam said, his heart was beating fast in his chest. It's been years since he last heard from his brother. It had taken him a few months to realize that his brother had stopped leaving messages on his phone and he immediately worried. Out or not, Dean was still his family. He remembered calling up Bobby and timidly asking him about his brother's state. He remembered Bobby saying he still got messages from Dean and not to worry. He got irritated, wondering why his brother would call Bobby not him, but then, with a gut-wrenching feeling he realized that the difference between Bobby and him was that the old man probably never let his phone ring when Dean was calling.

And the last time he ever heard of Dean was when Bobby phoned him one night, telling him his dad was dead. Ice ran through his blood and he had gripped the side table so hard he thought his hand or the table might break. The last time they ever saw each other, they fought like hell. Guilt and grief thrummed in his veins.

"_And Dean?" _He remembered asking through a thick voice, close to tears. His shoulders were shaking.

There was hesitation on the other end of the line, _"He told me not to tell you… but John's your dad too."_

A spike of anger and hurt flashed through Sam. Even if he was out of the hunting business, it didn't mean that he didn't want to hear if his own dad died! _"What? Did he cut me off as family too? Just because dad cast me out, he thinks he's better than me?"_

Bobby sounded tired, _"You know he doesn't think that."_

Sam snapped back angrily, _"I don't know what he thinks because he never calls me anymore!"_

"_That's because you never pick up! People get tired of waiting, you know!" _Bobby snapped back as Sam froze in surprise. The old man sighed, _"I'm sorry Sam, I just- Dean has no one left now, you know._

_He has me._ But he doesn't know if that still holds true anymore.

"_Right now, he's acting that he's peachy but I watched the boy grow up, I know him, maybe not as well as you, but I know him enough. He needs someone, Sam." _Bobby doesn't say _he needs you_. But it was implied.

Later that same day, Sam called the one number of Dean he never erased. He felt inexplicable sorrow when he heard the phone continue ringing.

He wondered if this was what Dean felt when Sam would never answer.

"Sam?" Krissy's voice brought him back the present. Sam shook himself from the memories.

"Sorry, I just- I don't know what to feel." He said awkwardly, "It's… been awhile since I last heard from Dean."

"Don't you miss him?" The teen asked and the lawyer snapped up straight.

"Of course!" The he scratched his cheek, "He's… You know, he's still my brother."

Greg's daughter nodded. "Okay. Dean misses you too, _a lot more than you think_." She emphasized the last line when Sam gave her a skeptical look.

"You seem like you know him a lot." Something nagged at the back of the man's mind.

"He's been to dinner a few times." She shrugged. "He likes teasing me and I think he's an ass, but he's okay."

"He's a jerk." Sam smiled to himself and Krissy raised an eyebrow. He shook his head, "Sorry, it's nothing."

"Krissy?" A shout from downstairs alerted the two, "Have you told Sam to come down for dinner?"

"Yeah, dad!" The teen called back. "We're coming!" She turned back to her neighbor, "So, those clothes?"

"Oh yeah, much appreciated." Sam nodded as Krissy gave him a smile and headed to get him some clothes. The lawyer closed the door and proceeded to get rid of his tie and jacket when he realized he forgot to ask Krissy if Dean ever told them about being a hunter.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: <strong>And that just happened.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: **_Here we go again._  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Losing his brother to the trials in closing the Gates of Hell, has taken its toll on Dean Winchester. With nothing left to live for, a certain Prophet-slash-writer thought to be long dead, makes him an offer. Dean opens his eyes to the night he made Sam leave Stanford to find their dad, only this time, instead of waking his brother, Dean drives off into the night by himself. Years later...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

Later that night…

Sam laid awake on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His head was clamoring different worries and thoughts at the same time. His worry for Jessica, he had called the police earlier demanding for updates, and his latest knowledge about his long lost brother, Dean.

He closed his eyes and for the first time in a long while, he wasn't thinking about his future with Jessica, away from hunting at last, but his difficult past with Dean always at his side. He remembered following him around, looking up to him, always wanting to be like his big brother. But then, time changes everyone and it probably changed him the most. He began to hate how they lived and how John controlled everything. Eventually he had to leave.

He still remembered the look on his brother's face on the night he left.

Then his reminiscing thoughts were put to a halt by a sound of something breaking downstairs. The lawyer sat up immediately and rushed to the door, opening it as he narrowed his eyes. The door in front of his room opened as well and Greg had some sort of gun in his hand. He regarded Sam with surprise.

"What are you doing, Sam?" Greg hissed, "Get back inside, I'll take care of it." It was ridiculous how the statement reminded him of what Dean used to say to him when he was a curious kid.

"No offense Greg, but I can probably hold my own against these guys better than you." The lawyer said defiantly. "So give me the gun and _I'll_ take care of it."

The man gave him a frown, "I'd rather not." There were more breaking sounds and Sam shot Greg a look as he walked out of his room and towards the stairs.

"Sam!' He hissed out in the dark as he followed abruptly. The youngest Winchester crept down the stairs and looked at the sliding glass door. Judging by the glinting glass on the floor and the sound earlier, it had been broken. But for some odd reason, the people behind it couldn't get in.

"Damn salt lines." One hissed out and Sam froze as he realized the implications behind the words. The moonlight allowed him to glimpse the eyes of the perpetrators.

"Demons." The lawyer breathed out in surprise. He was tense with surprise at these long ago foes.

As though they could hear him, the demons glanced up with a smile. "Why, look at what we have here? Dear Sam Winchester, you saved us the trouble of coming to get you ourselves."

"Wha-"

"Sam, get back!" Greg said as he pulled the man back and stood in front of him.

"Greg, wait, they're not-"

"Don't you demons dare put a foot in this household!" The ex-hunter said as he cocked the gun at them. In closer inspection, Sam realized that the gun wasn't a gun but a toy water gun. "I have a real gun in my pocket but with things like you, I think it's not necessary, right?" He shot at them the gun filled with holy water and they jumped back, hissing as their skin burned.

"How did you-" Sam said surprised and then he processed, "You're a _hunter_?"

"Not now, Sam." The man said exasperatedly. "Stand back and let me handle this. Krissy!"

The teen ran down the stairs and grabbed Sam's arm. "Let's –"

But before she could finish the sentence, one of the demons raised a hand and suddenly, all of the glass in the house shattered. A strong wind blew, breaking a part of the salt line, but that was enough.

"Got a little juice from Lilith." One of the demons grinned manically as she and the other demons entered, kicking away some objects that fell at the sudden burst of power. "Now Sam, stop being so difficult and come with us. I'm sure you want to see your wife again, right?"

At those words, Sam snapped out of his shock and stepped forward growling. "_What _did you do to her?"

"SAM!" Greg yelled but then he was cut off when the demon waved his hand and the hunter was thrown to the wall. He grunted in pain as his daughter yelled, "Dad!"

"Greg!" The lawyer turned to his neighbor. The demon took his distraction as an opening to flung Sam to the wall with its power. She pinned the man to the wall with an evil smile. The youngest Winchester struggled, trying to get out of the control.

"K-Krissy…" Greg whispered as he met his daughter's eyes. She knew what that look meant. He was telling her to run. But the teen pursed her lips and took out a small gun her dad gave her when she was old enough to be taught how to shoot. She crept to the side, unseen by the demons.

"Oh and don't think we can't see you, little girl." The woman said boredly and her two lackeys walked towards where Krissy was leaning against the wall. The teen pushed away from the wall and aimed the gun at the two. The demons paused.

"Leave them alone or I'll shoot." The hunter's daughter growled. The demons looked at her and then began to laugh.

"Oh, little girl, you don't know who you're up against." The woman demon snapped her fingers and Krissy gasped as the gun fell from her hand and she was forced down the floor by an invisible force. She gasped and struggled and the two demons approached her, forcing her up as she sagged helplessly.

"KRISSY!" Her dad struggled to get up despite the overwhelming pain on his back, "LET HER GO, YOU-"

"Oh shut up." Greg's voice refused to come out and he choked and coughed, blood coming from his mouth.

"Dad!" His daughter sounded so scared and Sam felt helpless as he struggled, fighting with everything he had. Why didn't he have some damn salt? Why did he forget the exorcism ritual to banish the demon from the body it was possessing?

He looked at his neighbor who was kind enough to have tried to save his wife while he wasn't there, who was kind enough to let him stay in his house and protect him from the demons and he? He couldn't even help them survive this fight! He was useless!

And as Greg coughed blood onto the carpet and Krissy struggled and yelled on the floor, Sam was losing hope, his eyes closing in distress.

That's when a bright light suddenly illuminated them all, the demons covering their eyes at the sudden brightness while Greg looked up, blinking. Then he suddenly smiled and laughed a bit. Krissy stopped struggling, her expression morphing into one of hope before she smirked.

The demons were literally caught in the headlights when a car crashed through the remains of the sliding glass panels, making the demons jump out of the way of harm. The car swerved to the right at the last minute, missing Krissy as she covered her head.

Because of the unexpected car entrance, the woman demon had lost her focus in controlling the three humans. Sam fell to the ground on his butt and Greg was finally able to breathe again. Krissy got up, rushing towards her father.

"This is already the third time…" Greg sighed as he hugged his daughter, coughing a bit but smiling to Sam's confusion. "It's getting embarrassing."

"We try to invite him to dinner to pay him back." Krissy assured him as Sam struggled to stand and limped towards them.

"Are you guys alright?" He asked as he looked at the demons who were beginning to get up as well, glaring at them. He stepped in front of the father-and-daughter protectively. But then the door of whatever the car that slammed into the house opened and a man hidden by the darkness stepped out.

"Sorry that I'm late to the party." A deep voice grunted and Sam squinted to see who it was. The man, _surely a hunter-_ Sam thought, took out his gun, boots crunching on glass. He aimed the gun at the disoriented demons who froze.

"Winchester." The woman demon growled, black eyes flashing and Sam froze at the word.

"It's fucking flattering that I'm getting so famous among your little _group of friends_." The man continued to say and for one crazy moment, Sam thought it might be his dad who was standing there. "Someone must have told you to keep an eye out for me."

As the woman hissed in apprehension, her two companions jumped at the hunter with vicious intent.

_Two against one, he'll never have a chance_, Sam thought as he opened his mouth to shout in warning.

But to his surprise the man was quick and efficient in his movements. He grabbed the nearest demon's arm and side-stepped, using his strength to throw one against the other and to the wall where they collided before landing on the ground, panting in pain. The movement gave the man a momentum to step closer to the leader demon, his gun now at the side of her head as he grasped her wrist just as she was about to run away or pin him with her freak demon power. She yelled as his touch burned and Sam saw a rosary hanging off the hunter's hand.

"You kill me, you kill the human I'm possessing." She threatened with a hiss as her black eyes receded and a frightened face looked back at them. "_Please, please don't kill me. Save me, help me…"_

"Oh, I know what I'm doing." Their savior said as he dragged the woman with him and Greg's eyes lit up when he saw where he was standing, a few steps to the left. The hunter began to mutter words of exorcism and the demon panicked, growling as the black eyes came back. She opened her mouth about to escape but to her shock, none of her essence poured of its vessel's mouth. Meanwhile, the hunter kept chanting.

"It's useless." Greg was the one to explain to a confused but awed Sam and the terrified woman demon. He gestured to the floor and through the moonlight by the windows, the lawyer saw a drawing of some sort of symbol peeking out of the carpet. "It's a devil's trap. The only way to get out of that body is to be exorcised."

The demon let out an anguished and ugly cry as the exorcism began to finish. The black smoke left the body and sunk to the ground, the demon banished. The woman slumped onto the hunter and he carefully laid her down on the part of the floor with no glass shards.

"I'll let the two others drink some holy water to get rid of them." The hunter said as he stood up. "You guys better turn on some lights around here so we can see the damage. Krissy, first aid kit."

"You could always say please," The teen mumbled but she was running towards the bathroom where they kept the medical supplies. Greg shuffled to the nearest switch and switched the lights on. Thankfully some of the lights hadn't been damaged.

Sam blinked at the sudden brightness of the room. The first thing he saw was how wrecked the living room was and he thought it would be a pain to get this all fixed up again. But then his eyes were drawn to the man leaning down the two demons who were drinking some holy water and being exorcised of the bodies.

The hunter had his back turned to them but in a few seconds he stood up and faced them.

Sam froze in shock, feeling time slowing down as he looked into a familiar face he hadn't seen in a long time. The face of his long lost (to him) brother…

…Dean Winchester.

* * *

><p>He was dressed the same as he remembered him all those years ago, faded jeans and boots, dad's favorite leather jacket, though this time it seemed to fit him well now, no longer too big. There doesn't seem to be any necklace decorating his neck and Sam's heart plummeted a bit at that observation. On his finger, he still wore the wedding ring his dad threw away after their mom died.<p>

Basically he looked like the same old Dean except…

His hair was slightly darker than several years back but still lighter than brown. His face, which before had the plumpy shape of youth, had sharpened into a man, strong-jawed and focused, eyes a darker shade than he remembered and unreadable to him. Also, the way his brother held himself was more reserved, agile, but controlled in a manner that screamed he had been doing this all his life.

Green eyes met his and Sam suddenly couldn't take it, the only thought in his mind was _itsdeanitsdeanitsdean_ and before he knew it he was crossing the distance between them and gathering his brother into a hug.

The past Dean he knew would have laughed and said "_It's good to see you too, Sammy. I see you're still a man girl." _But would have hugged him back anyway.

This Dean however just stood there patiently, arms pinned to his sides and muscles stiff beneath him. Behind the lawyer, he could feel Greg's anxious gaze and Sam started to feel embarrassed and a little irritated that his brother wouldn't hug back.

When he was letting him go, Dean finally spoke and it was the last words he expected from this quiet, aloof stranger that was his brother, "Are you alright, Sam?" And beneath the rough exterior, deep voice, and the cool mask, the youngest Winchester felt like he could still see his brother there somewhere, "You're not hurt anywhere, are you?"

The younger brother's green eyes widened at the question and when Dean shifted his weight to another foot, looking slightly uncomfortable, Sam cleared his throat, "Uh, I-I'm fine. I think I might have sprained my leg from being thrown in the wall and a few scratches from the glass but overall it could be worse." And he bit back a joke on how they used to handle injuries worse than this.

Dean nodded, "Good. But we'll take a look at that." He said as Krissy finally came back with the kit. The hunter turned to them, "Back-up will be here in an hour. I went ahead of them after my talk with Ash. They'll help clean up the place. You and Krissy can stay at the Roadhouse for awhile, Ellen would love to have you." He said to Greg.

"It's been awhile, Krissy would love to talk with Jo again." Greg said with a smile.

"And man," He ran a hand through his hair, a _Dean gesture_ that Sam couldn't help but be fond of. "I'm sorry about the mess. I'll pay for everything, I swear." The hunter gestured sheepishly at the crashed car (Not the Impala, Sam noted) into the living room.

"You don't have to act so manly," Krissy crossed her arms, "We can pay for it."

"No, I'll pay for it." Sam said hurriedly as everyone's eyes snapped to him. "I mean it's my fault that this happened anyway." He said, remembering what the demons said and he gritted his teeth at the thought of his wife. Dean froze at his words, face becoming pained for a brief second before smoothing over in a cool mask.

Greg noticing this immediately shook away the offer, "You're as bad as your brother. We don't need repayment but…" He said, raising a finger when Dean opened his mouth to argue, "If you really insist in paying us back then we ask only two things."

The two brothers nodded immediately and Krissy couldn't hide a smile at their likeness.

"One, we get to have one of those amazing coffee tables you have, Dean." Greg said to the eldest Winchester who blinked. Sam looked at the two in confusion, watching his brother nod begrudgingly to Greg's amusement. "And two, you two have to come have dinner with us at least once a week."

"Oh, okay, sure." Sam agreed readily. It was the least he can do. Dean was hesitant and Krissy shot the man a look, walking to his side and nudging him on the ribs.

"Look, it doesn't mean that we're _out_ of the hunting business that we _can't_ be friends with a big-shot hunter." The teen said with a frown.

Dena's expression was soft and sad as he said, "You know why I can't hang around much, I'll put you in danger." And his face said, _I already have._

"Then put on a mask or something. You're not wiggling out of the dinner deal and that's that." The youngest Chamber argued and Sam couldn't help but smile.

"I agree with her." Sam said out loud and Dean met his brother's eyes for the second time that night. "Hey, man, all I'm saying is it's nice to have some nice friendly dinner once in a while. And I agree with Krissy, just because a person is out of the hunting business doesn't mean they shouldn't keep in touch right?" And he knew that the moment he said those words, he was referring to something else than their current conversation. It was only a few seconds later that he realized that the same words also applied to him.

The hunter's face had closed off on all emotions and instead he nodded quietly, not saying a word. The lawyer saw Greg frown as though he didn't want the conversation to have happened this way. But thankfully, the tense silence was cut off when one of the three possessed bodied began to stir.

Krissy immediately went forward with the kit as Dean followed, kneeling beside the victims. And for the rest of the hour they helped and interrogated these people, completely forgetting the conversation from before.

* * *

><p>An hour later, four people showed up to the scene. One of which was Bobby whom Sam hugged and was relieved to find hugging back. One was a police officer going by the name of Jody Mills.<p>

"Came here to smooth the mess my boy made." She shrugged and she must have been referring to Dean who gave her a nod when he saw her.

The two others introduced themselves as Walt and Roy. They gave Sam a curt nod, not looking at him. The youngest brother got the distinct feeling that they didn't like him. When he mentioned this to Bobby, the old hunter shrugged.

"They probably dislike the fact that yer out of the hunting business for good. I mean, they have a small spiff with Greg too, but he's got a kid. You, on the other hand, the brother of the famous hunter and the son of John Winchester… Well, you had a lot to live up to and you disappointed them." Bobby explained, "Plus, they're probably angry for Dean's sake too. I mean, John didn't exactly make it a secret about how ya' ran off to college leaving Dean and him to fend for themselves."

Sam shifted uncomfortably but his face felt hot from both anger and embarrassment. Who were these people to judge his choices? If they were so jealous why didn't they try to make something better of themselves. And what about Dean? Did he think the same?

"I know that look on your face, Sam." Bobby told him, "And I'm telling you right now that you're brother ain't thinking like those morons. He loves ya' and accepts what ya' did. He understands and doesn't judge ya' for it, alright? Roy and Wal are angry at you because Dean isn't, even though they think he has every right to be."

"And you, Bobby? What do you think?"

The old man rolled his eyes, "I think you two should stop acting like idjits and be brothers for a change." He huffed as he walked forward to help and the lawyer couldn't help but look at his adoptive father fondly.

So long story short, they managed to have the three victims safely transported to the hospital. Officer Jody handled all the legal issues, and the hunters helped clean up the place as much as they can while Krissy, her dad, and Sam packed a few stuff since they'll be leaving for a while for their safety. Although there was a brief moment where Sam argued about interrogating the victims so that he could go in search of his wife but a look from Dean, somehow quieted him and he found himself going along. Officer Jody promised to send a few of her boys over to look after the victims from the hospital and keep an eye on them and a few more to this house so that no one would take advantage of the Chamber's open home.

Sam, Krissy, Greg, and Dean climbed into his rented car heading to the Roadhouse, with Bobby and the two other hunters following their trail. Exhausted and still throbbing with his wounds, although he had already been given first aid, Greg and Krissy Chambers fell asleep on the backseat, leaning against each other. Sam was on the front seat, shifting slightly in discomfort and worry as his brother drove on the dark road, looking ahead with concentration.

"You could go to sleep." Dean suddenly said in a gruff tone that almost made his younger brother jump.

"Uh, what?"

His older brother frowned, "You can sleep, I don't mind. We still have sometime before we reach the Roadhouse."

"Yeah, uh, thanks. If you're tired, I can take over for awhile and you can show me where we're headed." The youngest Winchester compromised and Dean just gave a curt nod as he tried to make himself comfortable and leaned against the window to sleep.

A few minutes later or judging by the sun rising on the east, an hour at least, Sam woke up to the sound of a car door being slammed shut. He sat up straight and found himself in front of a rundown wooden bar and in the back of his mind, he vaguely thought with betrayal that this new Dean apparently didn't trust him enough to take turns at driving.

Or else, he's the still same caring older brother who put his exhaustion ahead before his own.

"You okay, Sam?" The groggy voice of Greg made the lawyer look up. The man was outside the car, yawning. Krissy was on his back, sleeping.

"Uh yeah, fine." He opened the car as his neighbor stepped out of the way. Sam looked at the Roadhouse curiously. "Is this the place?"

Greg chuckled, "I know, it could have seen better days. It may not be the fanciest or best-looking place but it's home. Better than home really."

Sam nodded as he followed Greg inside. Dean seemed to have paused by the door waiting for them, but when he saw them headed his way he opened the door and got inside.

"Don't worry about it, he's usually like that." Came a sleepy voice and Sam saw that Krissy was barely awake on her father's shoulder. "He tries to act like some macho hunter but he's a teddy bear inside. Plus, he's scared of planes."

Sam laughed, don't he know it.

"-fix you up some breakfast?" Came a woman's tone. There were two women by the bar, one with brown hair and the other with blonde. They had some similarities in their features which entailed they were either mother and daughter or sisters.

"Good morning, Ellen." Greg greeted and the brown woman smiled at the ex-hunter.

"It's been awhile Greg. And I see Krissy's with you. Thank God you're both okay. Jo, can you help get Krissy to one of the rooms out back?" Ellen asked her daughter who went to Krissy.

"Monster," Jo said but with a smile on her face as Krissy was set down.

The teenager gave the older teen a smile, "Barbie." She greeted back, "So you're gonna show me to the room or wait for Ken?"

The female hunter laughed, "I see Dean's been teaching you snark. Well, let's get you to bed."

Sam watched the two go in amusement before his attention was taken by the woman named Ellen who walked up to him.

"You must be Sam." She said as she extended a hand and the youngest Winchester immediately shook it. "You're taller than Dean but you definitely have the same eyes."

"Thank you and you're… Ellen?"

"Ellen Harvelle. Your daddy and my husband used to go on hunts together." The brunette said easily, "Anyway, I'm glad to see you're safe. Any family of Dean's is a family of ours. Though, I'm sorry about your wife."

Sam gritted his teeth at the words, "She's not dead."

Ellen raised an eyebrow, "She isn't. I'm just sorry about whatever may happen to her the longer she's away."

The lawyer took back his hand as though burned and Greg shot the woman a look. Ellen sighed.

"I didn't mean anything by it, Sam. I'm just reminding you how harsh our world is. If you ever do get her back, you must be prepared for the worst." The huntress said firmly, the she turned back to the bar. "Now, enough of that talk. Do you boys want some breakfast?"

"That would be great." Greg said immediately and Sam nodded glumly, head still spinning and emotions mixed.

"I think I'll pass." Dean said as he stepped forward, and almost immediately Ellen shot him a look. He raised his hands in acquiescence. "I have an important customer coming in a few hours, I have to finish with his car's engines before then."

_Customer?_ Both of Sam's eyebrows rose at the words and he looked at the conversing pair with interest.

"Your damn customer can wait, Winchester. A good healthy breakfast comes first." The huntress woman frowned deeply and for a moment Sam was afraid for his brother. There's no way he could handle such a woman. Dean gave her a wistful look.

"I already ate." And when Greg gave the hunter an incredulous look, he explained. "There was an egg sandwich in the glove compartment. I ate while you were sleeping."

"That's not breakfast." Sam was the one who said and Dean gave him a look. He was uncomfortable with the green eyes on him, not used to this Dean he barely knew. "Uhm, I'm just saying man, it's good if you could join us. I mean, we have a lot of things to catch up on…"

Greg nodded in approval and Ellen smiled but still, Dean shook his head. The lawyer was becoming an expert in ignoring the disappointment in his chest.

"Really guys, if I'm hungry I have fridge filled with pie back at home." The oldest Winchester said with a shrug and almost immediately Sam was intrigued, though hurt at the blatant refusal. Dean had a home? He wasn't staying at some hotel or free loading in the Roadhouse? What did his house look like? Did he have a wife? Girlfriend? A dog?

Ellen's frown was back at those words, "You're gonna leave your brother here after getting him?" At their reference to him he looked at Ellen and then at Dean in confusion and slight embarrassment. "It's been years since you last saw each other. Stay and talk with him."

"Exactly, it's been years." The hunter agreed, "We didn't think we'd be seeing each other today and this is sudden. Don't you think we need time to think about what to say to each other?" He shrugged, "If not for Sam, at least give me some space. I'll come and check back soon anyway. It's just tinkering and I'll take the car out for a spin. I'll be back before you know it. So, car?"

The youngest Winchester stood frozen on the side. Even though he was there it felt like he didn't feel like he was included in the conversation. This was a first, he never felt ignored in his brother's presence before because he had always been the one his brother paid attention to the most.

And what did he mean by he needed time to think what to say to each other? Sure, his mind was buzzing with what to say and what to ask and he was a bit overwhelmed but still, on the spot conversations were always the best. That way they won't have time to hide things or construct lies.

Ellen faltered at Dean's words. She could see that if the young man didn't want to eat breakfast then there was nothing she could do. She sighed and threw him the keys, "Fine, come here and give me a hug before you go."

Dean's lips twitched, "I'm just a few miles away, there's no need to get so dramatic."

"And it's just a hug so stop being a wuss." The Roadhouse owner opened her arms and to Sam's amusement, his brother shuffled towards her anyway and allowed her to envelop him in a motherly hug. The lawyer frowned when he noticed that like earlier, Dean didn't return the hug and just stood there with his arms pinned to the sides as though he didn't know how to reciprocate a hug.

Or he was trying not to.

Ellen finally let him go, frowning, "It's like hugging a rock."

Dean chuckled in slight amusement, "Then stop hugging me for every little thing, then."

The woman's eyes softened, "Never." She said and then slapped his back, "Now get going and be sure to come back in at least a few hours."

"Yes, ma'am." Dean said as he straightened and waved at Greg who smiled at him. He stopped by Sam who looked at his brother surprised. The hunter reached out and awkwardly patted him on the shoulder, the first voluntary contact from him. "I'll see you later, Sammy."

The nickname sent a wave of wistful memories to the ex-hunter as he nodded like an idiot, "Uh, yeah. Though, I think you should drop the 'Sammy' thing." He joked, "I mean, I'm not a chubby 12-year-old anymore."

Green eyes softened sadly, "Yeah, sorry. Catch you later, Sam." The last word seemed to have been emphasized as he took back his hand and went through the door and let it close behind him.

Ellen let out another sigh, "That boy." She shook her head. "I'm sorry about that Sam, he usually gets like that and makes us all worry."

"Yeah, it's fine." Sam said clearing his throat as he headed to the bar stool and sat next to Greg. "It's great to see him after all these years." And he whispered the last part to himself. "Though I don't think he feels the same way."

But to his embarrassment, he was heard. Both Ellen and Greg gave him twin disbelieving looks.

"You must have a screw loose in your head if you think Dean Winchester isn't happy to see his brother." Ellen commented as got out some glasses and food on the counter behind her. She'd had it prepared for awhile, knowing they were coming.

"I don't know if you two were watching but he seemed pretty eager to get away from me." Sam couldn't help but comment as Ellen poured him some water which he drank immediately.

"He's just nervous." Greg assured him, "He doesn't know what to say to his precious younger brother." The lawyer snorted.

"_Right._ Don't kid me, he didn't even hug me back after we first saw each other." The youngest Winchester sibling said in a small tone.

"You saw him with me." The huntress said "Boy doesn't know how to hug back. I told him to just put his hands on my back or shoulder if he's uncomfortable but he refuses to budge."

"I think it's not on the concept that he _doesn't know_ how to hug back, more like he's _trying not to_ with you." Greg offered an explanation to the surprise of the two. Just as Sam thought before.

"Why the hell would he do that?" Ellen asked as he shrugged in response.

His neighbor sighed, "Its _Dean_. You know how he is. He thinks it's better if no one gets close to him."

The three of them fell into silence after that. Greg and Sam eating silently as Ellen wiped at glasses absently. That's when Jo chose that moment to come back in.

"She's all tuckered out." She said to Greg and then she looked around, an eyebrow raising in question. "Where's Dean?"

"Fixing up a customer's car." Greg replied helpfully.

Jo snorted, "You mean running away to play mechanic again." She said and then she spotted Sam. "Oh hey, Sam, right?" The youngest Winchester nodded, "Cool, I'm Jo Harvelle."

"She's my daughter, my pride and joy." Ellen smiled as Jo rolled her eyes.

"Nice to meet you." Sam said as he pushed his scrambled eggs around his plate before eating them. Greg finished beside him and stood up.

"Hey, I've got to go and get the bags from the trunk." His neighbor said as he patted Sam on the back. He looked back at Ellen, "Same place as last time?" He said referring to the rooms he and Krissy would be staying in.

"All yours." She smiled in answer and Greg nodded, striding to the door and to the car, leaving Sam alone to finish his food, trying not to feel awkward in this room full of strangers.

"Oh come on Sammy boy, you don't have to be so stiff." Jo said as she sat beside him.

Ellen smiled at her daughter, "She's right. You're part of the family, treat this like your own home." When she saw the uncertain and worried look on the man's face she added softly, "And don't worry about your wife, we'll do everything we can to help you."

Sam nodded solemnly and went back to his eggs. Greg came in carrying a few bags and refused help from Jo and Ellen who offered to help.

"Uhm," Sam said when he finally finished eating. Ellen collected his plates and deposited on the kitchen at the back before he could protest. She came back immediately, leaving the dishes for later. "So… will I be staying here?" He asked.

Jo and her mother exchanged looks.

"You'll be staying with Dean, obviously." Jo said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Not that we don't have room for you or anything," Ellen said as she came out from behind the counter leaned against it to face Sam, "But I'm sure your brother would want to keep an eye on you."

At those words Sam frowned, "I'm not a kid."

Jo rolled her eyes and she answered, "We're not saying you are. He's not going to keep an eye on you because he thinks you can't take care of yourself, he's a big brother, it's just how he is."

"Oh." Sam said, deflating.

"Anyway, he has a place nearby." The older woman said to him, "And I don't mean those ugly motels you boys and your dad used to stay in during jobs." She said in a disgusted tone, "It's an honest-to-God decent living place. Dean bought it a year back, some abandoned rundown shack miles down the road and near the forest. He restored it with his own two hands, saw that boy come down here for breaks and was as excited as newborn puppy."

"It was the happiest we've seen him." Jo said with a shrug, "He really put his back into rebuilding that old place and the work did him good, I guess."

"He took time off from hunting for about a month and focused on getting that thing together." Ellen reminisced. "I guess for a boy whose only valuables could fit into one duffel bag, getting a house was a big thing for him."

Sam could understand that. When he and Jessica had started looking for a place to live after university, he had been the more excited of the two of them. There was just something about owning a permanent place to settle in. To have something to come back to, to have something called home.

"And then after he finished it, we convinced him to make a home-service business. A garage or something, boy's good with cars." Ellen said with a proud smile.

"He calls it John and his boys' Garage." Her daughter said, "It's an okay name. Better than Jefferson Starships at least."

"It sounds great." Sam couldn't help but smile as well, "You've been there?"

"Mom goes down now and then to keep an eye on him. He works on cars for hours and forgets to eat… and sleep." The blonde added thoughtfully.

Ellen sighed and shook her head, "Reckless kid." She clucked her tongue, "Anyway, it's a beautiful place. There's a lake and a fishing dock a walk's away from behind his house. If you know some fishing and want some relaxation, it's the best place to be."

"You think…" Sam hesitated, "He'll let me stay?" He asked self-consciously. Ellen and Jo gave him a glare and in that moment he could truly see they were one hundred percent related. Like mother like daughter.

"Boy, there's a lot you don't know about Dean Winchester, so I'll tell you this now to save you from embarrassment." Ellen said as he looked straight at his eyes to get her point across, "There ain't _nothing_ that boy won't do for you."

"What my mom is trying to say is…" Jo said as she smiled, "Of course he would, Sam. He definitely would, so don't worry about it."

The lawyer looked between the two before nodding, finally, in defeat.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: <strong>This story is dedicated to giving the two Winchester boys the family they deserve. If you don't like where this is going or if you think I'm bashing Sam (which I'm _not_ by the way, you uncultured swine, I freaking _love_ Sam) and hate me for it then why even bother reading it? (And I'm saying this in monotone because hey, you can't please everyone) So, stop torturing yourself (and me) and leave if you're just going to complain about the story, alright? Save me the trouble of hunting you down and destroying you to pieces.

On another note! Thanks for all the support and the wonderful reviews on this story! You guys are great :D Wasn't season 10 ep 3 amazing? Please stay tuned on the next chapter of this XD THANKS!


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: **_Here we go again._  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Losing his brother to the trials in closing the Gates of Hell, has taken its toll on Dean Winchester. With nothing left to live for, a certain Prophet-slash-writer thought to be long dead, makes him an offer. Dean opens his eyes to the night he made Sam leave Stanford to find their dad, only this time, instead of waking his brother, Dean drives off into the night by himself. Years later...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

There was the sound of a car door slamming shut and Dean was by the door, wearing a gray colored, short-sleeved shirt covered in grease and a pair of torn jeans and boots.

"Hey, I'm back." Dean greeted them as he gave the keys to Ellen before turning to Greg who raised a glass in his direction. "You finished moving your things from the trunk?"

"Yeah, only Sam's briefcase and duffel are left. Just a bunch of loose clothes I had and I'm lending it to him, you better help get him some clothes from the nearest town." Greg said casually as he threw the keys to Dean who caught it. Sam, who had just gotten out of the restroom, froze in surprise when he heard them. He wondered if his brother would give Greg a look of confusion and ask why Sam wasn't staying at the Roadhouse.

But Dean just snorted, "I know that, genius." The snarky tone reminded Sam so much of his brother's past personality that it eased some of the tension in him. It seemed like working at the garage really did him good.

"Well, you better get Sam settled at your place, so he could get some rest before you guys have to hit the nearest town." Ellen called from the counter, "And Dean Winchester, have you eaten, young man?"

"Pie." The hunter answered back.

"Winchester, we've discussed this before, 'pie' is not enough for _any_ meal of the day. Tell me you ate something _with _the pie." The woman said with a disapproving frown.

"To keep you happy, I won't say anything." Dean shrugged to Greg and Sam's amusement. He turned to his younger brother and gave him an uncertain smile, "You ready to head out, Sam?" His mouth prolonged a bit on the 'm' as though he was about to say 'Sammy' but thought otherwise.

"Sure, man." Sam gestured widely with his hand. "Lead the way." He said nervously as Dean walked ahead of him.

The I-told-you-so look Ellen gave him made him feel more anxious than relieved.

* * *

><p>The car ride to Dean's place was okay, he found that his brother still liked the same old classic rock and he found himself singing along to it sometimes with Dean for the sake of nostalgia. He watched outside the window as the dessert-like road was eventually replaced by towering trees shading the dusty roads with their thick, green leaves.<p>

Finally, the car stopped by the side of the road and Sam stepped out looked to left, seeing the home Dean was apparently proud of.

It was a just a simple two-storey house painted white and green, somewhat blending perfectly in a wild forest, vines of some flower plant growing on the vine sticks at the side of its wall and an expanse of grass on its front, the left side seemed to be in process of becoming a garden while at the right was an extension of the house itself, a wide garage with a sign that said '_John and His Sons'' _garage painted on it.

It was like a small nest of paradise in a sea of thorns and at the back of his mind Sam remembered Ellen telling him that Dean restored the house by himself. He could almost imagine his brother, sitting on the lawn and looking up at what one day would be his own home.

The sound of the trunk slamming brought the youngest Winchester back to the present. Dean had taken his duffel and briefcase in hand and he automatically reached out a hand to take them.

"I can take those." The ex-hunter insisted. Dean looked at him, shrugged and gave the briefcase to his brother while he carried his brother's duffel. Sam followed his brother to the door.

"So this is the couch." Dean said gesturing to a lumpy but comfortable looking black couch which was positioned in front of a fire place while Sam closed the door behind him. On the mantle, attached to the wall, was a flat screen, medium-sized television and radio. "Kitchen's that way, bathroom first and second floor. One bedroom down here and four more upstairs, take a pick."

Sam nodded.

"Mostly I sleep down here but my official bedroom's upstairs." He explained, "I guess it's more like an office or my own personal workshop or something. So it's off limits." He warned his brother and the youngest Winchester couldn't help but smile. This sort of treatment was, at least somewhat familiar to him.

"So, do you have a room for some sort of library for research?" He asked as he followed Dean upstairs. He observed the shiny and waxed floor with interest, taking note of the well-repaired walls and picture frames that were more likely hung on the wall just so it wouldn't seem plain.

"Yeah, the door to the right next to living room. It's a sitting room actually but it's got books and stuff." His brother shrugged, "And wifi."

"Oh good." Sam said in relief and Dean gave him what should have been an amused look, but he looked away as though just realizing that he'd been warming up to someone. The lawyer deflated at that.

"This is my office or room, whatever." Dean pointed to the door farthest from the stairs and nearest the window which surprised Sam. The Dean he knew always picked the one nearest to the stairs so that if something was happening downstairs he could get there in a hurry or else escape quickly.

"Uhm," Sam stared at Dean's bedroom door which, out of the four doors, was the only one painted with a myriad of colors, chaotic, mixing, and clashing- reminding him of one of those paintings in the art gallery he and Jess used to go to. His wife used to tell him that such paintings weren't for visual appreciation but mostly was just a way for painters to exhibit the chaos of emotions inside them. And like the paintings in the gallery of whatever style of painting that was, despite the utter clash and mix of the colors of Dean's door, overall it was aesthetically pleasing in a way, "Did you paint this?"

His brother shrugged, "There was some left over spray paints in the garage and I thought, what the hell?" He answered, "So, you're room?"

"Oh right, uh, that one." Sam picked the room across Dean's own.

"Okay, I'll leave you to get settled." The hunter said as he opened the door and threw the duffel at the bed, "I'll go and put together some lunch." He said as he left.

The youngest of the two nodded as he entered the room, taking note of the single bed pushed to the wall, a dresser, cabinet, light green walls and dark green curtains. There was even a wooden desk and chair on the opposite side of the bed.

Sam unpacked his bag, sighing at the few clothes and boxers he had. Aside from the clothes Greg lent, he had gotten some of his clothes from the gym and a suit and some t-shirts he had in his office and various other things he managed to salvage or bring with him to the office. These were basically his only possessions now. For some reason he felt like he was fifteen again, his things compromising of one duffel at the back of the Impala.

Speaking of the car, he wondered where it was right now.

The lawyer shoved all of his things into the well-made oak cabinet. He paused and took time to admire the craftsmanship, fingers tracing the delicate carving at the edge swirling patterns that eventually spiraled into vines and intricately designed leaves. At the back of his mind, he remembered Greg asking for Dean's coffee table. If the coffee table was half as interesting as this piece of furniture, then he can see why.

After he finished, Sam opened his briefcase filled with his laptop, three phones, tablets, and some papers and legal files. He took out the few clippings of information he managed to print in his few short hours at his neighbor's house. He took out a 12x12 bulletin board he bought recently, sticking it to the wall before sticking the news on fire arsonists and kidnappers or both spotted in the city during the past week.

Of course, now that he found out that demons could possibly be involved in this, Sam's research was probably a dead end, but it's better to be safe than anything. He went out of his room with his laptop, determined to do some research in Dean's library. To find Jessica and exorcise the hell out of those demons who took her.

"Hey, uh, Dean?" He called out as he went down the stairs but froze when he realized that this was the first time he had called his brother by name in years. He cleared his throat and walked down, becoming aware of the delicious aroma from the kitchen, he peeked and saw his brother by the stove frying what looked to be burger meat, marinating it with something that smelled wonderful. He tried again, "Dean?"

The hunter jumped as though not expecting the call, he turned and saw Sam. "Oh, heya Sam- Sam." He knew he was about to say 'Sammy' again. "Your room okay?"

"It's great." Sam offered with a smile, "I actually came to ask if I could use your library?" He thumbed at the door and Dean nodded.

"Yeah, sure, go ahead. Lunch will be ready in ten." His brother said as he turned back to what he was cooking, Sam nodded and went to the library.

It was by far Sam's favorite room out of the whole house. Most probably because it had books in it, but the wooden furniture that had a similar design to the cabinet upstairs also played a part. The color of the walls were different from the green theme the house was going, having been painted royal blue. The chairs were wooden with light blue foam and midnight blue pillows. It looked comfortable and matched the whole concept. On the side was a couch wide enough to lie on, even for Sam, which was probably for the purpose of resting or napping during long researches. There was also a small desk with a lamp on it (battery consuming by the looks of it) by the side and a long table to spread the books on with four similar lamps on top.

The book shelves were a dark colored oak, varnished and well-maintained. Books of different sizes and colors were side-by-side and Sam wondered if they were arranged by subject. Also, the books were worn and Dean wasn't the type to buy these things, so they must have been Bobby's gifts and the rest by other hunters.

Out of curiosity he put his laptop down on the table and took a small black book from the shelves, well preserved and hard-bound but the pages slightly yellowing. He opened it to the first page.

_To Dean,_

_Happy birthday! _

_Thanks for the help with that Shojo- thing. You know the Japanese Sea spirit. Anyway, I hope you're safe and give me a call when you need help or something. We can do tag-team hunting again!_

_Oh and yeah, thanks for telling Bobby to take me on as an apprentice! I'm learning so much from him!_

_-Garth_

Sam flipped through the pages and learned that these were some research notes from rarely seen monsters. He was impressed with this Garth person, having written something like this must have taken some time. He closed the book and took out another.

_Merry Xmas asshat._

_Seems like you're getting a mass collection of books now, which is good, I guess. Anyway, you better be at the Roadhouse later or you'd be subjected to my mother dragging you there kicking and screaming._

_Lots of love,  
>Jo<em>

Sam raised an eyebrow as he took out another book, this one hardbound and heavy with parchment like pages. He opened and read another message,

_Heard you were looking for a book on angels. I got a spare lying around in my place and thought to give it to you. Thanks by the way, for helping with that demon chick (Meg, was it?)._

_-Steve Wandell*_

Sam raised an eyebrow, why would Dean need a book about angels? He shrugged and looked through other books, realizing they were all basically secondhand given by hunters (only a few were new), some he used to read back at Bobby's. He was engrossed with looking through the rest of them that before he knew it, Dean was knocking on the door saying something about lunch.

He placed the books back and decided to leave his laptop on the table. Sam proceeded to the kitchen as Dean took out a beer from his fridge and placed it in front of Sam's plate as he sat down.

"You going somewhere?" Sam asked when he saw Dean grab his own beer and his plate of burger. Sam noticed salad next to his burger, to his surprise.

"I need to finish lay outing my next project." At the look of confusion on Sam's face, he said, "Greg's coffee table won't make itself."

And then it clicked, "You made _these_?" Sam said incredulously as he patted the wooden table and referred to the other furniture made from wood. For a moment Dean seemed uncomfortable at the tone of incredulity, "I mean, they're amazing man! Do you own a furniture shop in town or something?"

His brother gave him a weird look, "Hell, no. It's just a hobby, doing this full time would mean less time for hunting." He shrugged as he made his way out.

"And would that really be so bad? You can make an honest living for a change." Sam meant it as a joke but he saw the tensing of Dean's shoulders and just like that, he knew he said the wrong thing.

"Not everyone's made for the apple pie life, Sam." Dean said in a soft tone and it was worse than being snapped at. "We can't all be like you." Then he was going up the stairs and away from his brother.

The lawyer frowned and he turned back to his lunch, internally berating himself. He was in his brother's house, seeing his brother after so many years and the first thing they do was get into a fight. He picked up the burger and bit into it, taking note with annoyance, that it actually tasted delicious.

* * *

><p>A few hours in the library, Sam had various articles on possible demon activity in the city. Though out of all of them, only three were significant. He thought about questioning the victims who were possessed again but he remembered Dean's warning look and he didn't want to remind them of anything traumatizing anyway.<p>

He closed his eyes in distress and remembered Jess' smiling face at him.

Then the sound of someone going downstairs made Sam peek out of the door. Dean had the bottle of beer in his hand and a plate, he chucked them at the sink. He opened the fridge and gulped down some cold water before going to the living room to grab his jacket and keys.

"You going somewhere?" Sam asked when Dean passed by the library's door.

"Roadhouse, got a text from Ash- a local genius." Dean said at Sam's look of confusion, "I think he has a lead about the demons who burned your house."

At those words Sam perked up, "Let me come with you." He demanded as he grabbed his laptop and stepped out.

The hunter paused, his face that cool, unreadable mask his younger brother was learning to hate. "No."

"Wha- No?" The lawyer demanded, "You can't tell me 'no'! Jess is my wife!"

"Exactly, you have a wife." And this was strange, Dean wasn't shouting but the ferocity behind his words was much worse than when you actually shouted them. "You have a wife, Sam and you had a home, and you're _out _of this hunting lifestyle so _stay _out."

The younger man barely registered the hurt he felt at those words, instead he growled in anger, "I'm not planning to go back to hunting. I just want to find Jessica and get back to my life."

"And I understand that." Dean said firmly and it couldn't help but make Sam bristle at how calm he was being. "But tell me, what would you do if you learn where those sons of bitches are but I decide we go tomorrow? You'd sneak off in the middle of the night and go anyway and most probably get her and your sissy ass killed." He said logically, "Or what would you do if you find her injured or tortured or _dead_ and the fucking demon who did that to her, escaped? You'd hunt him down, get your revenge. You'd come back to this life you hated so much, Sam. The life you tried so hard to escape."

"I won't." His younger brother said to him seriously and the older Winchester couldn't help but laugh without humor.

"Dad swore, when his dad left him, that he'd be a good father and never leave us. Look at what mom's death did to him." Dean said firmly, "Grief makes people do crazy things, Sam. Don't turn into Dad."

And that was the end of their conversation. With Sam too busy absorbing what just happened, Dean took this as an opportunity to get out of the door, slamming it shut behind him. He took the only vehicle that could possibly get him to the Roadhouse with him.

Sam slumped against the wall, running a tired hand through his hair. Ever since he became a lawyer, he had never felt thoroughly beaten in an argument before. There was first time for everything, especially when it comes to meeting your brother after God-knows how many years.

Sam trudged up the stairs deciding that he was too tired to stay awake for this. He went to his room and threw himself into bed. When he closed his eyes, the smiling face of his wife burned away into her screaming and scared and for some reason, pinned up the ceiling. His heart clenched in fear but in a few seconds he fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

><p>Banging on the front door jerked Sam awake and he looked around groggily, wondering where he was before he remembered, oh right, he had a brother who suddenly showed up at his neighbor's house to save him from demons and was currently at the Roadhouse tracking said demons with the help of some person named after a pokemon master cartoon (Ash).<p>

He got up and grumbled as the loud sounds continued and he carefully maneuvered down the stairs, looking at the front door's screen to see Ellen waving at him.

"Figured you were asleep." She said when Sam let her in. "Your defense suck by the way, you can't just let people in the house boy, you have to at least spray me with some holy water or make me walk through a devil's trap- although knowing Dean, I already have." She kneeled down and peeled the large welcome mat away to show a well painted demon's trap. The bar owner easily stepped through it. She raised her hand and showed him bracelet made of silver and iron, "Just to clarify, I'm not a shifter or a werewolf."

"Wow," Sam said as she walked past him and into the kitchen. He placed the rug back. "You guys really take these things seriously."

"It's a dangerous world out there, Sam." She said as she placed the brown paper bags she was carrying on the kitchen table and started taking out food containers. "Especially for those of us who really know what's out there." She ducked and opened the cupboard beneath to get out some pans. "Dean feed you lunch?"

"Uh, yeah. Surprisingly, it was delicious."

"I expect it to be." Ellen said with narrowed eyes as she washed the pans, "There are times he stays coop up in this house for days without going to the Roadhouse, so I expect he can at least cook something decent. And knowing how he is with food, he has to be at least halfway decent."

Sam nodded, "Speaking of Dean, where is he right now?"

"That's what I came here to tell you about. That and the fact that he left you here with only _pie_ for dinner." She rolled her eyes as she turned on the stove and Sam let a smile show, "He's off hunting the demons who took your wife."

Shock overtook Sam's expression and he asked worriedly, "What? Does he have back-up? Why didn't he tell me? I should be there!"

"And this is exactly why he didn't tell you, Sam." Ellen sighed as he warmed up the leftovers she brought from her bar. "The hunters' number one rule is always to keep civilians out of trouble. To protect them and other stupid things like that, not like we get thanked or paid, you know? Anyway, your brother is just following the rules."

"I'm not a civilian." Sam hated the fact that being called a civilian made him seem defenseless or weak or something. "I'm his brother."

"Exactly, you're his brother who isn't a hunter anymore. You aren't trained into this Sam." The woman told him and Sam couldn't help but frown at the truth behind those statements, "You're more like a liability than an asset. And don't worry about Dean, he has Bobby and a few others who'd protect him with their life."

The fierce protectiveness in her tone surprised him and he couldn't help but ask, "How'd you meet him, anyway?"

Ellen blinked before she smiled as she leaned against the counter, crossing her arms as she waited for the food to warm up. "Hm, let's see… He was just another of those hunters who came in and kept mum about themselves. Learned he was one of John Winchester's boys and I tried to get him to warm up but he's very determined to stay secluded."

Sam nodded and then he said in hesitation, "But still- how did you go from friendly strangers to something like this? The way you treat him, it's like he's part of your family- like a son or something."

The woman smiled, "He saved my little girl."

Sam blinked in surprise, "Jo?"

Ellen nodded, "A few years ago, Jo and I had a little disagreement about her going to hunt. So of course, as every teenager is set to do, she went off on her own to prove me wrong. She'd gone to investigate some haunted apartment that took blonde girls," She shook her head, "I was out of my mind with worry but thank the heavens Dean Winchester was passing by- probably on the same case. He heard some girl rented the apartment and he rushed in to save her." Her eyes became steely and determined, "I owe that boy a lot."

"Oh." The lawyer said, "It sounds like him. Going after people and always saving them." If there was anyone he would trust to save his wife, it would definitely be his brother.

"He's trying his best, Sam. And to be honest, he's the best of the best so I don't think you should worry." Ellen assured him, "Anyway, are you planning to go to work tomorrow? Heard you work at some big construction company or something?"

"Yeah, Sandovers. I filed a leave of absence but one of the board of directors is pressuring me to make a choice about becoming CEO in the company." He sighed in frustration, just remembering that before the Jessica incident, he had been worrying about his best friend, Brady. Then a horrible possibility entered his mind. "Hey, one of the workers in the company just vanished one day without telling me, do you think that it could be a clue of Jessica's kidnapping? Maybe Brady had been kidnapped too."

Ellen shot him a narrowed look at the name, "Brady?"

"Uh, yeah, we've been friends since college. He introduced me to Jessica." Sam explained, not understanding the look she gave him. The woman pursed her lips.

"I know who that man is, Sam. But it's not in my place to tell you. The one who should be explaining this is Dean."

"Explaining what?"

"Don't worry about that for now." Ellen assured him as she looked at the stove and deemed the food warmed up. "Let's eat some dinner and if you have nothing to do tomorrow, maybe you can go fishing or go back to work since, after all, there isn't much to do here."

Sam opened his mouth wanting to ask what she meant but then the determined look on her face made him rethink it. "Yeah, okay. Thanks, Ellen."

"Thanks for what?" She said nonchalantly as she placed the food in one of Dean's containers. "Just making sure you have some dinner other than pie, it's not much to be thanked for."

"No, well, yeah I'm thanking you for the dinner too but mostly…" Sam looked at her earnestly, "Thanks for looking out for my brother."

The woman seemed stunned at his gratitude before smiling, "You're welcome, Sam."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes: <strong>_Spoilers, _Sam is gonna get kidnapped next chapter.


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